May the Best Prank Win
by Ravenclaw House of TFC
Summary: Boredom prompts the DA to begin a pranking contest. Who will win? Who will get caught? Written for a contest on Third Floor Corridor.
1. Prologue

This is a collaboration story, written by various members of Ravenclaw House on TFC. If you are interested in joining, please see the author profile for the link.

Credits: (in alphabetical order)

**AutumnBreeze12** – Wrote the fourth chapter, gave ideas and support. You had such amazing pranks!

**Breannatala **– Organized the story and wrote the third chapter. You gave it a new element, thank you!

**Esir** – Contributed Howler to chapter 5, helped to beta. Thanks for the Howler! It fit perfectly!

**GuTTerArT** – Gave consistent feedback and encouragement. We couldn't have done it without you!

**Heartdamoose** – Gave us the title, even though you're a Gryffindor. Thank you!

**Hermioneevenstar** – Helped to beta. Thanks for jumping in at the last moment!

**Jewel Leigh** – Wrote the second chapter, helped to beta, and organized the story. You did so much, thank you for all the time you gave!

**Mizumi Forrester **– Wrote the first chapter. We love the twins!

**Morwen Eruviel** – Betaed everything to death and wrote the prologue and epilogue.

**Smokey2307** – Wrote the fifth chapter. Thank you for being the resident brit-pick!

**The rest of Ravenclaw** – You are all the best! Thanks for the encouragement along the way!

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**A/N: **Written by Morwen and betaed by Jewel, Esir, and Hermioneevenstar.

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Ginny Weasley sank down into an armchair as the DA crowd finished filtering out of the Room of Requirement. The lesson had gone well; they'd only had a few minor mishaps. At least, they hadn't needed Madame Pomfrey _this_ time.

Now only the leaders were lingering, waiting for the weekly meeting. Harry seemed quieter than usual, not initiating conversation the way that he normally would. Ginny couldn't help but wonder if the Gryffindor trio was keeping more secrets, ones that weighed heavily on Harry's mind.

Ron broke the silence in characteristic fashion. "So, Terry Boot finally did a decent disarming charm – and almost killed Lavender Brown in the process."

"But he did it. That's something." Harry grinned slightly, obviously remembering Terry's first attempts at the spell. "He used to take apart whole bookshelves. Thank Merlin for this Room. Without it, everyone in the DA would have regular beds in the hospital wing."

"Too bad we don't know a spell to turn ourselves into pillows." Neville sounded almost wistful. "Then we wouldn't have to worry about getting hurt."

"But I don't know if there is a simple one with a reversible change. It would be awful to get stuck that way. If Madame Pomfrey couldn't fix you, you'd never be able to hold a book again!" Hermione shook her head in horror, apparently unable to imagine the tragedy.

"Of course he meant just for a while. Otherwise we wouldn't use it." Ron stretched his arms out, cracking his knuckles twice before he spoke again. "I don't think…"

"We realize that." Fred was grinning at his brother, clearly ready for any kind of activity, even if it included stale jokes.

"Quite obvious, after all." George's matching toothy smile was an expression Ginny knew quite well. Her brothers were ready for some excitement.

Hermione shook her head again. "Let's get down to business. There isn't really much to discuss tonight. We just have to plan the next DA meeting, and I think we've already agreed that it will be next Thursday. We've done Mondays and Fridays for two weeks, so we ought to move the time again."

"Right," Harry agreed. "Because on Tuesdays and Wednesdays, Ravenclaw and Gryffindor have Quidditch practice."

"Although Ravenclaw was thinking of moving it to Monday," Luna added. "Cho prefers to have the middle of the week open."

"No objections to Thursday, then? Good. I'll send the message to everyone else."

A brief silence followed Hermione's announcement as she pulled out the master galleon and scratched the date and time onto the surface. Ginny couldn't help checking her own coin to watch the new numbers appear. It really was a brilliant spell.

She looked at her watch. There was still time left to satisfy Fred and George's restlessness. "We have almost a whole hour before curfew. What should we do?"

The twins shared a quick glance. "Let's play truth or dare!"

"Again?" Hermione rolled her eyes. "We've played it the last 5 times! I'm running out of ideas for that game. Can't we play something that requires less creativity and more intelligence?"

Ginny spoke up with a grin. "If you're hint for Arithmancy trivia, it isn't going to happen. Unless, of course, Luna decides to go into the corner with you and play."

Luna gave a slight shake of her head. Evidently she didn't like the idea, although her smile echoed Ginny's beaming face.

"Still, I think you're right," Ginny said, taking a more serious tone. "We don't need to play truth or dare, but I'd like something similar. T or D is fun, but we need something new."

Ron wrinkled his nose. "What I want to do," he said, "is to go throw dungbombs into Filch's office. Anyone else?"

"Sounds good to me," Harry remarked. "Now all we need is for the twins to invent dungbombs with a time-delay."

Fred made a face. "Or, dear sir, you could come up with some creative ideas on your own."

Ginny kept thinking, uncharacteristically inspired by Ron's comment. _After all, why should the caretaker get all the attention?_ "Malfoy deserves it more than Filch. Let's put bulbadox powder in his little furry hat! He was practically begging to be pranked this week!"

"We use bulbadox powder all the time, Gin-Gin. Come up with something on your own."

She felt slightly deflated at that, but was distracted when Ron twitched a bit. "What about Snape? I need to pay him back for that last detention. I wasn't doing anything!"

Ginny glanced at Hermione, expecting to hear her correct Ron, but the older teen appeared to be deep in thought.

"What I'd like," said Hermione slowly, "is to get Umbridge. If I have to see that condescending smile one more time…"

"Well then, we'll just leave her to you." Fred pulled out a sheet of parchment and began scribbling. "Harry should do something to Snape…"

"Naturally, dear brother! Who else could come up with the necessary hate?"

"Hey!" Ron objected. "I could!"

"Yes, and _you'd_ be caught. Snape isn't stupid, and you aren't fairy-footed." Fred looked up from his parchment, still grinning. "Notice that we aren't sending Neville to victimize our dear Potions Professor. Harry happens to have two of the best spying and pranking devices around. In fact," he turned to the DA leader, "you should get the ferret too."

"But I'm no good at this sort of thing!" Harry objected. "I should be watching everyone else to see how it goes! How am I supposed to get into the dungeons?"

Ginny spoke up. She was hoping that the twins would settle down before getting too obsessed over this new idea. She didn't want Harry to end up with _all _the hard work. "I'll help you with Malfoy, Harry. I'm sure you'll want some help with two Slytherins to prank."

Harry gave her a wry smile. "Thanks Ginny. I appreciate it." He turned back to Fred. "I really don't want to get Snape. This isn't anything I'm used to!"

"Fine," George sighed. "Since you obviously need a demonstration, Fred and I will do something to Dumbledore…"

"Just for show, of course!"

"And perhaps we will inspire you to greatness in your own prank!"

"I'll do one too." Everyone turned;, surprised that Luna had spoken up. "That is, if you mean pranks that are going to be just for fun. I'm sure that Professor Dumbledore will take it well. So…I'd like to take McGonagall – but I don't want to humiliate her. That would be unkind."

"Alright." Fred went back to scratching his quill across parchment. "So, Gred and I will prank the Headmaster first, Hermione is assigned to Umbridge, Harry has Snape…"

"What about me?" Ron asked, looking highly affronted at being left out.

"You can…" George thought for a moment. "You can judge us!"

"What?"

"Surely even _you_ know what a judge is. You can watch us, then give a prize to whoever executes the best overall prank."

"Get Neville to help you!" Fred suggested.

Neville blinked at the sound of his name. "Do you really think so? I'm not very good at deciding things."

"Well, it's either that or you'll have to prank someone."

"That's alright." Neville agreed, seeming to have made up his mind. "I guess that Ron and I are responsible for rules, then?"

Hermione shrugged. "I suppose. You can give each of us a due date for the pranks… I don't know, what other rules do we need?"

"Just the usual: no getting caught, nothing that would send you to Azkaban… that sort of thing."

"Exactly my thoughts, Fred."

"Why thank you, George."

"If you two are quite finished," Ron said, "we need to an order for the pranks so that everyone can get back in time for curfew." Ginny giggled silently. Ron loved being in charge and this was the perfect role for him. If he got to tell his siblings what to do, it would more than make up for his being unable to prank Filch.

He pointed at the twins, obviously revelling in his new power. "Fred and George should go first, because they're the inspiration, after all. Your time limit is… by this Thursday."

"Luna next?" asked Neville. "She could prank McGonagall on Monday."

"Alright," Ron said decisively, grabbing Fred's parchment and beginning to write over his brother's doodles. "so we have the twins this week, Luna on Monday, then Harry can go after Snape by next Wednesday."

Harry groaned but Ron ignored him.

"Hermione next," Neville said, he was beginning to be caught up in the idea also. "We don't want Harry doing one right after the other."

"Alright then. We can have Harry and Hermione finishing on Wednesday and Saturday and then we'll give the last prank a week. That way, it will go out with a bang.

"So everything will be finished by…" Neville scanned the notes that Ron had just finished writing. "Halloween. That should be easy to remember. The rules are simple as well. Do your best, but nothing that can land your target in the hospital wing, nothing illegal, and absolutely _no_ getting caught."

Ginny grinned. "And are we allowed to tell the rest of the DA? It would be far more fun if they could watch too."

"I think that we could tell them." Hermione said. "After all, we _are_ trusting them not to tell Umbridge that we're breaking school rules, we should be able to trust them not to rat on us about this. Although, I wouldn't tell them which one of us is assigned to whom. It will add suspense."

Neville nodded. "We can just tell them when the due dates are and who is being pranked. That way they can watch certain people without knowing who the pranker is."

"That sounds good to me," said Luna, standing up and shouldering her bag. "I should go. After all, Ravenclaw Tower is farther away than Gryffindor Tower and I don't want to lose any points for breaking curfew."

"Goodbye Luna." Ginny waved to her Ravenclaw friend and then began gathering her own books. A few minutes after Luna had gone, the rest of the group left the Room of Requirement, trekking back to Gryffindor Tower. After each of the rule-breakers stepped into the circular room, the Fat Lady closed behind them, leaving the corridor perfectly silent.

The Gryffindor Common Room, however, was ready for some plotting.

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**A/N: **Please review! We love reviews!


	2. The Twins

**A/N**: This is a collaborative effort by the House of Ravenclaw, from the ThirdFloorCorridor. This chapter was written by Mizumi Forrester and betaed by Jewel Leigh and Morwen.

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Two redheads sat huddled together in their usual corner with a few small stacks of books, quills, and parchment. An outsider might believe that the brothers were studying for upcoming exams a bit early. However, any Gryffindors milling about the common room would not even consider that possibility. After all, most of them already knew the favourite activities of the infamous Weasley twins.

Everyone near knew to keep their distance from them. For when Fred and George were talking quietly with their heads close together, they were surely conspiring something—something that was definitely not good. Those Gryffindors who glanced at them could only pray to Merlin for the poor soul – or souls - that they were targeting.

Mark Fowler was a fourth-year Gryffindor. He had been lived at Hogwarts long enough to know that the twins were usually trouble. Still, he wasn't paying close attention that evening, and so didn't notice that he was dangerously close to them until he began to hear snatches of their conversation.

"No, it's less creative that way!"

But you'll have to admit, the idea has a lot of merits."

"We can incorporate that with the other one if you don't use -"

" - The Billywig sting. Great idea, brother, dear!"

"Isn't it? Bloody brilliant that'd be if we could make that effect happen after the colour changes! He'd look like he'd come out of -"

" - An unfortunate potion brewing! Wicked, Forge."

"Of course, Gred. We do have such amazingly well-built heads on our shoulders."

"True, that!"

They grinned with excitement. Mark shuddered at what he had heard. He fervently hoped that he wasn't the target for the twins' latest plot. He was almost out of earshot when the two suddenly turned towards him with identical grins on their identical features.

"Ah, look, Gred!" George said, "It's our good friend, Mark! What a pleasure to see you!" Mark froze before slowly facing them and giving them a half-hearted smile. _Bugger_. He was caught.

George continued. "We do hope you've recovered from those awful burns you got from the Skiving Snackboxes..."

"And we hope you found our products to be very satisfying." Fred added. "We hope - "

" - To do more business with you in the future!"

Fred leaned back in his chair and rested his hand behind his head. "So, to what do we owe the pleasure of your presence, dear Mark?"

Before Mark could answer, George cut in, giving his twin a nudge in the ribs.

"Oh, Gred, maybe our young friend here is hoping for a sample of our fantastic inventions."

Fred looked sideways at his brother. "And maybe he wants to have the privilege of being the first to acquire our latest product! Isn't that right, Forge?"

"Yes, I imagine that everyone will want to be among the first to experience it."

Mark poised himself to run as George (or at least the one that seemed to be George) launched into his melodramatic act. The closer twin placed his hand on his chest and began to emote with gusto. "But O, the horror!"

"No," Fred added with faked sadness, "I'm afraid you can't be the first."

"Not that we don't like you -" said George.

" – Or want you to enjoy it – "

" - But there's someone else lined up to try it first."

"Don't feel bad, my friend. I'm sure my brother and I can arrange it—"

"—So you can get the second instead."

"That's better than the last, right?"

"So, if you want us to…"

"No, thank you!" Mark quickly ground out. He walked away quickly, before the two could stop him. He had found out that he wasn't the target, and that was all he wanted to know. Whatever they were making up, he didn't want a part in it. Mark knew by then that, unless you were the twins, pranks either humiliated you or gave you detention. If he, Mark Fowler, wasn't involved, he didn't want to be.

No, never. Especially not after seeing the slightly mad gleam in their eyes. Sure, they seemed to possess immunity to expulsion, but that didn't mean that one should encourage them. Most people actually found the twins funny, if they didn't happen to be the target of the day. Mark still remembered his second year very clearly, when his older brother, Kenneth, had come down with boils from something that Fred and George had done to him. Kenneth had made sure to warn his little brother about the Weasley twins, and Mark had taken his advice to heart.

The least he could do, Mark decided, was to stay away from their latest idea. He didn't want to be volunteered for anything, especially if it seemed to involve making someone look like they had just been in a cauldron explosion. After all, Mark had enough problems with Transfiguration without being humiliated in front of the school.

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The next Thursday morning was especially fine.

Apparently all the professors were appreciating the weather, and the students seemed to agree. The Great Hall was almost completely full at about 8:00; even Professors Vector, Trelawney and Snape were there, despite their tendencies to leave early. By this time, most people were already halfway through the meal.

Mark and his friends were enjoying their breakfasts. The lessons for that day had little to no homework, there were no tests, and –most importantly – they didn't have DADA on Thursdays. Just like the rest of their House, the fourth-year Gryffindors hated Delores Umbridge with a passion suited to the fiery nature of their House. Not having her for lessons was almost like a holiday.

Not only that, but the House Elves had made waffles for breakfast. It looked like today would absolutely perfect.

Most of the time, mail did not arrive right in the middle of a meal. Mark had only seen a few letters arrive during breakfast, and they were almost always Howlers. Usually, the Headmaster of Hogwarts had his letters delivered to his office. Certainly, the Headmaster had never received mail in the Great Hall – during a meal.

That was why every occupant in the hall looked up when a tawny-feathered barn owl flew towards Professor Dumbledore carrying a small parcel wrapped in brown paper. The whole Hall went silent, and curious eyes were openly staring at the Headmaster. Even the teachers were watching with their complete attention.

Looking over at the twins, Mark began to wonder if they had anything to do with the unusual mail delivery. They were certainly whispering with the people sitting near them. Looking more closely, Mark could see that the twins were sitting by the other two Weasleys, Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger. Maybe the whole group was doing something. Mark felt another rush of relief that he wasn't involved in whatever the twins had been doing. If the twins were going to prank the Headmaster and get into trouble, he was doubly certain that he didn't want to be part of it.

Dumbledore either didn't notice or was ignoring all the eyes that were boring into him as he inspected the outside of the package. He seemed rather excited, like a child who had just received a Christmas present.

The next few minutes were agony, as Dumbledore opened the small note that hung from the parcel's string. Mark wanted to stand up and tell him that it was probably a trick, but self-preservation kept him seated.

"What is it?" asked Colin. "You keep looking over at the Weasleys. Didn't you see? Dumbledore just got a parcel!"

"I know!" Jenny Stewart was almost quaking. "He never gets mail! And why did the owl come in during breakfast? All the other mail already came!"

"Thanks, Jenny." Mark turned back to his plate. Why did girls always have to state the obvious? It was as if there was some kind of brain-killing disease carried in fingernail polish…

Jenny wasn't the only one who was anxious for the Headmaster to open the package. Most of the Hufflepuffs were staring pointedly at the Head table also, obviously as impatient as the Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws were looking up with detached interest (how _did_ they manage that?), and even the Slytherins were staring.

The audience did not have to wait much longer. Dumbledore was apparently just as eager to see the contents of the package as everyone else. Still, after reading the note, he ran several charms over the parcel, in case it carried something dangerous. Mark understood this perfectly. He could almost hear his mother's voice chiming in one of her familiar sayings. "When you get mail from someone you don't know, always run a charm over it. Remember your Great-Uncle Jerold, who died from an exploding parcel from his half-brother." Even if you thought you recognized the sender, you were always to check things, because you never knew.

At last, Dumbledore took off the string that held the brown paper to the box. Colin and Jenny were almost vibrating in excitement. When the Headmaster opened the cardboard box, he smiled, seemingly pleased with the contents. Mark blinked in disbelief. Had he worried for nothing?

After the Headmaster pulled out the small can that had been nestled in the box, everyone seemed disappointed.

Sherbet Lemons. A tiny tin of sherbet lemons. Most of the students craned their necks, and Mark could see the Muggle brand name written on the side. _Who would send the Headmaster Muggle sweets?_ Mark was beginning to wonder if it was just from one of Dumbledore's eccentric relatives.

The contents of the package were very anti-climatic. The students (and staff) who had been so curious returned to their food. Jenny made a pouting comment to her friend Teressa about how boring that had been, and Colin restarted their conversation about how great his new broom was.

Mark was relieved. Perhaps Kenneth was right, and he did worry too much. The twins _were _trouble, and he needed to keep an eye on them. But… perhaps he didn't need to be so paranoid. He attacked his breakfast again with new energy, eager to meet the rest of the day that had begun so perfectly.

The Great Hall had resumed its usual noise level, and everyone had gone back to his business. Everyone was either eating or talking, and Mark relaxed into the state of 'rightness'. There was nothing to fear, he told himself, absolutely nothing to worry about…

Then he looked over at the Weasleys, and saw them nudging their neighbours and pointing at the Headmaster.

_Maybe there is._ Mark sat frozen in his seat, afraid to look.

Before he had a chance to turn around, there was a shriek from the Head Table.

"Albus!?!" Minerva McGonagall had jumped from her chair in surprise. "What in Merlin's name—" The usually calm Transfiguration Professor was, for once, at a loss for words as she stared at the Headmaster as though he had grown an extra arm.

Growing extra body parts was actually very near to what happened to Dumbledore. Except that there were no new parts, only dramatically changed ones.

Professor Sprout, who had been sitting next to McGonagall, also let out a shriek of surprise. That brought almost everyone's attention back to the Head Table, just in time to see Umbridge jump up, looking horrified.

"Bloody hell!"

Many others let out an expression similar to Colin's. After fully catching sight of the Headmaster, most of the Hall froze in their seats, dropping forks into their laps. The whole room was astonished - even _Snape's_ mouth had dropped open slightly. Mark took a deep breath, then looked up at Dumbledore.

Their respected Headmaster looked…well, rather like a Muggle clown. His long hair was now pink, purple, and blue, and standing straight up. Mark could now see why the twins had been talking about an effect that resembled a Potions accident, because it really did!

His beard was now adorned with the same multi-coloured pattern, and was standing out, pointing at the students who were staring up at him for the second time that day. This time, there was more cause for surprise. When had Hogwarts ever seen a Headmaster with pastel coloured hair? Even more bizarre to Mark, the garish colours matched Dumbledore's starry purple robes with an almost obscene effect.

There was complete silence in the hall for a moment. Then, one of the younger Gryffindor girls began whispering to her friends, and then the rest of the hall broke into tense whispers.

Dumbledore stood up as if he was going to speak. He sent sparks from the tip of his wand, and everyone stopped murmuring to look up once again. The Headmaster opened his mouth, and -

"I think the one who did it,

Is certainly full of wit.

I do greatly thank him

For this marvellous mayhem."

He was rhyming like some sort of riddler! It was _horrible..._

Then, someone from the Slytherin table let out a snort. Then, a sputter came from the Ravenclaw table. Soon, sniggers and giggles came popping out of everywhere. It wasn't long before the entire Great Hall was filled with peals of laughter.

"Quiet! Do not make fun of the Headmaster!" Umbridge screeched as she tried in vain to stop the students (and most of the teachers) from laughing at the ridiculous spectacle standing in the middle of the Head Table.

Dumbledore turned to the toad-like professor, smiling wryly.

"Professor, my dear,

There's no need to fear.

Please pardon the pun,

But it's all in good fun!"

Teressa snorted loudly into her plate, and Jenny had to thump her on the back to stop her from choking to death on a waffle. After Mark managed to register what the Headmaster had just said, he broke into a grin. This was brilliant! Everyone (with the exception of Umbridge and Snape) seemed to love the prank, so perhaps there was no need to fear for Gryffindor's points after all.

When the first wave of laughter died down, the Headmaster looked back out onto the gasping students, and grinned widely. The tables fell into another bout of laughter when they had seen the last effect of the prank: Dumbledore's teeth were dyed every colour of the rainbow.

Mark saw one of the Gryffindor prefects spit out a stream of pumpkin juice at the sight, and let himself join in the laughter this time. What did you know? The twins could be _really _funny, even to their target!

The Headmaster wasn't done. He opened his mouth again and all the students stifled their laughter, straining to catch every word.

"Such a good prank,

Whom have I to thank?

A new kind of sweet,

Indeed, a great treat!

May we never forget this,

And never regret this.

The giggles returned, but were quickly shushed when the Headmaster kept speaking.

"I would like to stay,

For a day this way,

Or perhaps a week,

If you can stand the cheek."

Mark looked back at the Weasley twins and grinned. They were laughing harder than anyone else, wiping tears from their eyes and slapping each other on the back. _Guilty as hell_, thought Mark with a smile. _I was right all along._

"Now I've heard lots of laughter,

And it's raising the rafters.

Though now I do appeal,

That we return to our meal.

For you must keep your routine,

On your studies still lean,

And get you to class,

So the exams you can pass."

With that, the students turned to their Housemates and began talking and eating once more. Several of them were re-enacting the ludicrous scene they had just witnessed, and others were still gaping at the colours adorning Dumbledore's face, teeth, and beard.

At the Gryffindor table, Mark Fowler drowned out Jenny's mad giggling in favour of his own thoughts. _They aren't really that bad,_ he mused. _They just want to have fun, and I guess they aren't very good sometimes at judging how people will take things. Either that, or it's just Kenneth. _Still, he wasn't about to eat anything that they offered him. It wouldn't do to be on their bad side either. On the other hand, if he ever needed an ingenious method of prank, he would make sure to ask them first. Perhaps he would have to visit their joke shop, if they ever opened one…

The fourth-year Gryffindors left the Great Hall together, in plenty of time to reach their first class of the day. Mark joined in the conversation on the way to the classroom, as Colin and Teressa debated whether they would rather have seen Snape, Filch, or Umbridge rhyming in pastel colours.

When Mark went to his dormitory that night, he found a small tin on his bed. It was identical to the one he had seen that morning, with a label proclaiming "_Sherbet Lemons"._

With a smile of gratitude to the twins, he quickly wrapped up the tin and tucked it into his trunk.

Who knew? Someday it might come in handy...


	3. Luna Lovegood

**A/N:** This is a collaborative effort by the House of Ravenclaw, from the ThirdFloorCorridor. This chapter was written by Jewel Leigh and betaed by Morwen.

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The slender, white hands were tucked in the pockets of her robe. A wand was tucked neatly behind her ear. Luna Lovegood wore a quirked half-smile on her face.

If anyone had been looking at that moment, they would have said that her smile was due to one of her peculiarities. Why else would anyone walk aimlessly around the lake wearing a quirky smile?

However, they wouldn't know that Luna's smile was painted on her face for a reason. Yes, Luna Lovegood was remembering the spectacular events of Thursday. Her smile grew wider as she remembered the various reactions in the Great Hall.

Fred and George really were professionals. They had pranked the Headmaster in a way that made everyone laugh, was creative, and, most importantly to Luna, didn't embarrass their target too much.

The cool morning breeze brushed against Luna's pale face as she took a deep breath. Her face became more contemplative: she was next.

Continuing her walk around the lake, she heard a rustle in the direction of the Forbidden Forest. Instead of running away in fright, she looked toward the mysterious noise and squinted her eyes to see if she could tell what was making the sound.

"You can come out," Luna called in the direction of the noise.

Nothing happened for a moment. When Luna was about to give up and turn back, a head poked out from behind a bush – a rather ugly head by most standards. Luna smiled brightly.

She had never seen a creature like that. Quickly searching through her memory, she tried to remember if she had even heard a description of the creature that stood before her. Nothing immediately came to mind, however. Standing still, Luna watched the creature as it looked back at her. Even she had to admit that it was not an overly pretty creature. Its fur was brown, short, and rather stiff. Although it stood on two legs, it was hunched over in a way that made Luna think that it might use its front arms when it ran. If it stood up straight, the creature would reach no higher than her knee. Its eyes, however, were large and deep green in colour. Luna thought that they were absolutely beautiful.

Luna bent down to look at the creature more closely. "Hi," she said gently. "Are you lost?"

The creature didn't answer. Luna drew even nearer, something that she had been told not to do near an unknown creature, but she paid no attention. After all, the creature _looked_ sweet and gentle.

She cocked her head to one side. "Are you a Lukiplinos?" The creature didn't move, so Luna went on. "Daddy told me about you. Do you really bring luck to whoever sees you? Well, I need that."

She smiled brightly and slowly lowered herself onto the ground. Tucking her wand behind her ear again, she thoughtfully picked at stray bits of grass, breaking them into pieces.

"It's like this," she told the creature. "I'm supposed to think of some pranks to play on Professor McGonagall. Do you have any ideas?"

She looked into the creature's eyes, and suddenly drew back, inspired. "Oh, that _is_ a good idea." There was a pause as Luna contemplated how she was going to make it work, then smiled and stood up.

"Well, goodbye, Lukiplinos. Thanks for your help." She gave it a small wave before turning and walking back to Hogwarts.

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"Come in."

Luna gently opened the door to Professor McGonagall's office. The Transfiguration teacher sat behind her desk, looking at Luna with mild interest.

"May I disturb you for a moment, Professor?"

At McGonagall's answering nod, Luna entered the office and shut the door.

"I wanted to ask about my grade for the last essay." "I think I mentioned Nargles and how to transfigure them into handkerchiefs, but I'm afraid I forgot to mention the fact that they are magical creatures, so the spell should be different. I need to see the essay though, so I can know what I did wrong."

"Have a seat, Miss Lovegood." McGonagall said briskly. "I will try to find it for you."

"How are you this morning, Professor?" Luna asked, sitting in one of the wooden chairs beside McGonagall's desk.

"I am well, thank you." McGonagall said curtly. She flipped through a small sheaf of papers on her desk.

"That's good," Luna answered. She got up again, and went over to the window. "It looks like it will be cloudy tomorrow, so I thought I might look for some Fluffy-toed Crum-Flingers tomorrow afternoon. They like to sleep in damp places on cloudy afternoons, and sometimes if you are really quiet you can see them."

McGonagall didn't comment on that statement. "I must have already filed the essays for that class." She stood up and walked back to the cupboard in the other part of her office.

As Luna looked at the papers spread out on McGonagall's desk, her eyes widened. It was just what she was looking for. All the Transfiguration class schedules were laid out before her, and the teacher was occupied.

As Luna quietly reached out and pulled the First-year schedule towards her, she continued talking. "Do you think I should look indoors or outside, Professor? Fluffy-toed Crum-Flingers don't like the sun." Luna pointed her wand at the schedule. "Even if it's cloudy they are probably buried in the ground. Maybe I should try the dungeons, do you think?"

A duplicate of the First-year schedule appeared next to the original. Luna pulled a blue quill out of her bag. Her father had given her this quill for her last birthday. It was a rather remarkable quill, not least because it was able to erase ink. As Luna began to erase the handwriting off the duplicate that she had made, McGonagall looked up at her.

"I was just writing this down before I forgot, Professor," Luna answered the unspoken question. McGonagall didn't say anything as she went back to her filing cabinet. After Luna erased the heading, she took a close look at the way that McGonagall had written "Fourth-years" on another schedule. Taking great care, she copied it onto the modified First-year schedule in McGonagall's handwriting. "So, Professor, do you think it's possible to transfigure a Fluffy-toed Crum-Flinger?"

The Transfiguration professor looked at Luna once more before sighing. "Most likely, Miss Lovegood - if such a creature exists. I would need to know its exact magical properties before attempting to transfigure it, however."

"What would I need to know before I transfigured one?"

As McGonagall answered the question, Luna quietly folded the real Fourth-year schedule in half and slipped it into her robes. After all, it wouldn't do to leave the correct one on the teacher's desk.

McGonagall returned to Luna, document in hand. Sitting down, she frowned slightly as she looked over Luna's essay. "I have it marked exceeds expectations, Miss Lovegood," she said. "And there is no mention of a Narla."

"Nargle," Luna answered softly, "I must have mentioned them in Professor Flitwick's essay about cheering charms." She stood up. "Thank you, Professor."

Opening the door, Luna saw McGonagall give an imperceptible shake of her head. Luna smiled. There was something to be said for peripheral vision. Now, she would just have to wait for tomorrow.

OoOoOoOoO

A hazy red streaked across the sky as the world became slowly darker. Luna sighed contentedly, resting her chin on her bended knees. There was something particularly comforting about seeing the day end, seeing the different colours paint the sky with the knowledge that a new day will begin. The sun set each day – so predictably – and yet, each sunset was completely different from the last.

There was a small noise to her left, and Luna turned her head to see where it had come from.

She smiled when she saw the same creature she met this morning. "Hallo, little fellow."

The creature was standing beside her, looking up with unblinking eyes. Slowly, it approached and allowed Luna to rub her hand over its stiff brown fur.

"Do you like watching the sun over the lake?" she asked. "So do I."

Luna sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes. "I think the prank is going to work," she finally told the Lukiplinos. "It isn't much though. I wish that you could help me."

It seemed to Luna that the creature's soft eyes lit up at her words. Their eyes met and the creature leaned forward. "Oh," Luna said softly, "you _can_ help me. What are your talents?"

The Lukiplinos picked up a rock with its little hands, then plunked it into the lake.

"Well, I know that you can move things around. What do you think you could do in Professor McGonagall's office?

As she went over some ideas with the creature, she made sure that it knew what not to do. "No hurting Professor McGonagall – or anybody. Everything you do has to be back to normal the next day. Understand?"

The Lukiplinos nodded solemnly, and Luna smiled fondly at it. The next day would certainly be exciting.

"Luna! What did you do? I was leaving the Gryffindor tower this morning, and I saw McGonagall running from her rooms squeaking! She was still dressed in her nightclothes, and her hair was a mess." Ginny began questioning the moment that she met Luna in the hall. They both had Transfiguration next, and they usually walked to class together.

"Perhaps she was being chased by a Lukiplinos"

"Luna! Seriously."

Luna frowned. "I was being serious, Ginny."

When they arrived at the classroom, Professor McGonagall wasn't there yet. Instead Professor Sprout was setting up various rodents in front of the students' desks.

Jeremy Harris raised his hand. "Ma'am, where is Professor McGonagall?"

"She'll be along shortly, Mr. Harris," Professor Sprout answered with a smile. "She had a bit of trouble this morning and needed some extra time, so I offered to set up for her." In Sprout's hand, Luna recognized the class schedule by her attempt at McGonagall's handwriting written near the top. So it had worked! The classroom was getting ready for a First-year class, and if Professor McGonagall was sufficiently distracted, everything should go according to plan.

When the Transfiguration professor did come in, she certainly appeared agitated enough to rely completely on the schedule and ignore everything else.

"Books away! We are going to return to our study of transfigured animals. Please send one person from each table to collect your rat."

One of the Ravenclaws raised his hand.

"Yes, Mr. Bensen?" McGonagall asked

"You said we were going to test us over pigeon transfiguration!"

"I just looked at the schedule, Mr. Bensen." McGonagall said. "It clearly called for each of you to practice with rodents."

No one else said anything. Ginny stole a glance at Luna, but Luna kept her gaze straight ahead, listening closely to McGonagall's words.

When Ginny came back with a rat to share with Luna, she couldn't seem to help saying something about the sudden schedule change.

"I mastered this ages ago," Ginny said, waving her wand effortlessly toward the rat.

"So did I," Luna said, pulling out her wand.

"It's not like McGonagall to make a mistake like this!" Ginny returned the goblet to a rat, then pushed it in front of Luna.

"No, it isn't." The Ravenclaw waved her own wand, making a perfect crystal goblet.

"Luna!" Ginny hissed. Luna turned and her large blue eyes met the other girl's. Luna titled her head slightly.

Ginny shook her head. "Forget it. I'll ask you later."

And they went back to work.

OoOoOoOoO

A few minutes later, everyone else had also finished, and had begun to talk among themselves about how strange the class had been.

Professor McGonagall was quite distracted. She appeared to keep turning something over in her mind, and didn't seem to notice that she had assigned her class one of the simplest transfigurations.

Jeremy Harris and Mark Fowler had finished their work, and were both sitting quietly at their desk, waiting for more instructions. They looked around at all the other tables, exchanged a look, then shrugged in unison.

Jeremy lifted his hand into the air. "Professor McGonagall, I have a ques-"

A loud crash echoed through the classroom. The Professor jumped, then stood and addressed her students.

"If you will excuse me," McGonagall said stiffly. "I must see who has just breached my office wards. Class dismissed!"

OoOoOoOoO

Right after lunch, Ginny and Luna were walking down the corridors together. Ginny had Charms, and Luna had Potions, but there was some distance before they would have to separate.

Just as they began to turn their separate ways, McGonagall came rushing past.

"What's wrong, Professor?" Luna asked.

"It would seem somebody – or some creature – has broken into my office. My teacups are in a nearby lavatory, and all my paintings are covered with hand lotion!"

Luna noticed Ginny unsuccessfully try to hold back a grin. She hoped McGonagall would not notice it.

"Maybe it was those Fluffy-toed Crum-Flingers we were talking about earlier," Luna offered. "Sometimes if…"

"Thank you, Miss Lovegood," McGonagall interrupted. "I have to go and see the Headmaster now. Both of you have classes to go to."

"Bye, Professor," Luna called out to her teacher's retreating back.

Ginny turned to Luna with wide eyes. "What did you _do_?"

Luna shrugged. "I think it was a Lukiplinos, but sometimes it is hard to tell. It could be its cousin the Lukipitinos..."

The two girls had reached the split in the corridor. "Well, I have Potions," Luna said as she turned away from the other girl slightly. "I'll talk to you later."

"Later, Luna."

She arrived at the Potions classroom with exactly one minute to spare. Apparently Professor Snape had only arrived a moment before. As she slid around the corner and into the classroom, she did not even notice Snape until her foot kicked the back of her professor's boot. He spun around, and Luna quickly took three steps back.

"Get in your seat," Snape said stiffly.

Luna, panting, and a little shamed for being almost late, sank into the front row beside Cody Sweers and took out her textbook.

The lesson had been going on for less than five minutes when the classroom door flew open. Snape's expression turned from annoyance to something akin to concern when he saw who it was.

"Severus," McGonagall rasped out. She hurried towards the front of the classroom. Although she tried to whisper so only Snape could hear, Luna could still make out snatches of their conversation.

"…chambers, and something came…on my bookshelves…

"…chased you?"

"Yes…think it was…"

"A verdoni?"

"It matched…the…do with it?"

"I'll kill it. It may…one of the students…"

Her eyes widened. Quickly as she could, she stood and slipped from the room without anyone seeing her go.

As soon as she was outside the classroom, she took off at a run. She had made sure that her prank wouldn't hurt anyone, but now her little friend was in danger. Snape was going to kill him!

Even though she had told the Lukiplinos - or verdoni as the professors had called it – to stay hidden, Luna knew there were ways someone could find the creature. It was definitely within Snape's abilities to find the creature and kill it.

Luna opened the door to an empty classroom near McGonagall's rooms. "Lukip," she called. It only took a minute before the stiffed-haired creature appeared before her.

"Lukip," She bent down and gently touched the creature's head. "I'm really sorry, but you need to go back into the forest. You must never come back."

The creature looked at her, and Luna thought that the look in its large, green eyes was one of the saddest things that she had ever seen. Quickly, she bent down and kissed it on the head.

"Maybe I can visit you someday." Hearing a sudden footstep, Luna pushed the creature toward the castle door. "Go," she whimpered urgently. She stood up. "Don't be seen," she added, as the creature hurried off.

Feeling relieved beyond words, Luna hurried back towards the potions classroom. Just as she put her hand on the knob, it swung open, and Professor Snape was glaring down at her.

"Miss Lovegood, did it escape your ears that we have a highly dangerous creature on the loose?"

"No, sir," Luna said. "But I've never seen a verdoni and Daddy says…"

"Get in class," Snape snarled.

Luna did.

OoOoOoOoO

After class, Luna walked idly down the corridor, swinging her arms in odd patterns. After about 30 minutes, Snape had come back to report that there was no verdoni in the castle anymore. Luna could tell McGonagall was relieved, although still a bit apprehensive.

"Luna!" she heard a familiar voice calling her name. Turning around, she saw Hermione, Harry, and Ron hurrying to catch up with her.

"Luna," Hermione said again. "Did you hear? Apparently there was a verdoni in the castle this afternoon.

Ron broke in, rushing over Hermione. "Yeah, it got into McGonagall's office! Snape went looking for it, but he didn't find it."

Hermione pushed him back. "I've read about them. Apparently they are intelligent enough to understand humans, but they can't speak. That's why they are classified as beasts or magical creatures, rather than magical beings." She paused for breath. "They also bind to one magical person and obey them forever. That's one reason that they are so commonly used by Dark Wizards as familiars."

Ginny had walked up from the other direction. She crossed her arms and gave Luna a glare. "A verdoni? What were you thinking?"

Hermione's eyes had suddenly gone wide. "You – _you_ let the verdoni in?"

Luna shook her head. "Only for the prank. He didn't do any harm really. Only stole McGonagall's hairpins and put her teacups in the toilet and chased her – but not to harm her of course…"

Hermione shook her head. "Those creatures are evil, Luna. You shouldn't mess with them. Now you might have a borderline Dark creature bound to you!"

"They might sometimes be used to do evil things but that -

"Sometimes!" Hermione interrupted. "Luna, it's well known that those creatures are used to do horrible things."

"Just because something can be used for wrong doesn't automatically make it evil."

The group fell silent. Hermione still looked doubtful, but the others seemed to agree with Luna. Finally, Harry said, "Luna's right, you know."

Ron grinned. "And that was absolutely brilliant this morning, seeing McGonagall run from her rooms in a nightdress."

The group shared a laugh. Having finished their classes for the day, they set off for the Great Hall to talk with each other until dinner. As they turned a corner, a long shadow fell on their faces. The five of them had to stop in order to avoid running into the tall, dark form of their Potions professor. Luna looked up to meet his unblinking, accusing gaze. Snape's eyes flickered momentarily on the ground before looking up again.

"Miss Lovegood," he said darkly. "you have some _dog_ hair on your skirt." With that, he was gone, leaving the group standing in the corridor.

Luna looked down at her skirt. Sure enough, clinging to the pale blue fabric, there were three coarse brown hairs.

**A/N: **Please review!


	4. Harry Potter

**A/N:** This is a collaborative effort by the House of Ravenclaw, from the ThirdFloorCorridor. This chapter was written by Breannatala and betaed by Morwen

OoOoOoOoO

Harry Potter was huddled under his Invisibility Cloak in the Gryffindor common room, searching the Marauder's Map. Tonight, as for the past two days, Snape was noticeably absent from the corridors, which was odd, considering how much he enjoyed taking points from non-Slytherin students. Still, Harry wasn't looking too hard. He still didn't have any plans for the prank he was stuck with, and he wasn't excited about it. After all, this was Snape he was about to prank.

As if Snape didn't hate him enough already. _If I get caught..._ he pushed that thought away, rubbing his temples while trying to not fall asleep. He really did want to hex George for this. Just because he had the Cloak…

Searching the dungeons again, Harry finally spotted Snape walking from his office. Thinking he could reach the Potions professor in time, Harry stood up, snuck out of the tower without waking the Fat Lady – for once – and made his way toward the dungeons as quickly as he could. He made sure to keep an eye on the Map as he ran, so that he wouldn't lose Snape or run into any other teachers on the prowl.

Harry didn't have a good idea what he was going to do, so when he did finally catch up to Snape, he simply followed as closely as he could without alerting the older wizard to his presence. Soon, Snape's long legs took him into a dungeon area that was unmarked on the Map. Curiosity, more than anything else, overrode Harry's instinct to head back to the Common Room as Snape continued into the deeper areas of the castle. The man soon stopped at a tapestry, and after a muttered password, it folded itself into the oddest doorframe that Harry had ever seen. The green and gold fabric opened into a grey-tinted room, and for a moment, Harry just stood there, knowing that this was his last chance to run back to Gryffindor Tower.

Before he could lose his nerve, merely two seconds after Snape stepped through, Harry darted into the room. He quickly clung to the wall and held completely still, holding his breath to made sure that Snape would not hear him. He let out his breath as quietly as he could while Snape moved around the dark room. As soon as he knew that the teacher hadn't heard him, Harry relaxed slightly and looked around the dungeon.

The room he was in (the parlour) was twice as big as the living room at the Dursley house, and although it wasn't small, the room felt extremely crowded. Everywhere he looked, there were books: in piles and on shelves, only a few with labels. Shelves covered the walls so thickly that he couldn't tell if the walls were stone or painted, and the sofa that sat by the large fireplace was surrounded by two tables, both cluttered with books and other school supplies. In addition to those near the fireplace, there was another table, one that could probably fit six people comfortably. It sat in the middle of the room, with only one stiff-looking chair facing the tapestry entrance. The large table, too, was cluttered, and was used for research or planning, if the open books, quills, ink, and piles of parchment were any indication.

Harry turned his attention back to Snape, who was wandering around the room, sorting parchments, piling books and throwing away rubbish. The moment that Snape threw away the first piece of parchment Harry realized what a horrible hiding place he had chosen. The wastepaper basket was only three feet away, and Snape passed Harry's corner several times in order to dispose of the garbage. He tensed each time the man passed, hoping that the Potions Master wouldn't sense him there.

After all, it wasn't as though Snape didn't know about the Invisibility Cloak. He had suspected Harry of using it before, and had almost caught him last year. It still unnerved Harry to remember it; he had gotten caught in the stairs and dropped the egg onto the staircase. Snape had been very close to grabbing him and ripping the Cloak off; something that Harry didn't want to think about.

Still, Snape seemed completely oblivious to the fact that his most hated student was lurking in his rooms, and Harry was determined to keep it that way. He began to inch across the wall, away from the wastepaper basket and toward the door. Finally satisfied that he was in a fairly safe position, he slumped down along the wall, and waited for Snape to stop pacing.

After about a half-hour, Snape finally seemed to settle down. He left his office/parlour, going into another room through a door that had been closed before. _Good, maybe he's gone to bed._ Harry quietly made his way across the room to the fireplace to look at the books and rolls of parchment that were now piled neatly on the two tables there. Glancing back at the door Snape had gone through, Harry picked up one of the top books and pulled it underneath the Cloak.

It wasn't even in English. What language was Snape studying in? Turkish? Shrugging, Harry inched the book onto the pile again. He pushed the Cloak back slightly, so it wouldn't be in his way as he looked through the books. All of them seemed to be in the same, curvy language, so Harry moved away toward the second table. He picked up a book that was alone on the table, beside the sofa. He nearly dropped it when the door behind him opened, and Harry quickly checked the Invisibility Cloak, making sure that Snape couldn't see him.

Trying to sense where his teacher was, Harry moved cautiously away from the tables and chair as he tried not to bump anything, his back still to the professor. When he reached the corner of the room, the book still in his hand, he turned around slowly. He immediately shrank back, hoping to Merlin that Snape would just go to bed already. He didn't relax until a door closed behind the Potions Master with a decisive thud.

At least he didn't catch me, Harry thought, trying not to think about what would have happened if Snape had caught a student in his private rooms.

Glancing down at the green leather book in his hands, Harry read the title. _The Art of Rominla. _Frowning at the rather odd title, Harry made sure that he could hear Snape moving around before he opened the book to the first chapter.

_"The rare plant Rominla,"_ it read, _"is usually avoided, both by Potion Masters and Herbologists, due to its fastidious growing conditions and dangerous secretions. In addition, once cut, the leaves will emit a poisonous fume, deadly to human tissue. Still, those who risk the dangers of the plant will reap all the rewards of…"_

As the door reopened, Harry looked up to see Snape enter the room. The man didn't seem at all ready for bed. He sat down on the sofa... and Harry held his breath. _This is not worth it,_ he thought, cataloguing various hexes he could use on George. _He could catch me, and there's no real reason to do this…_

From his corner, Harry could see the room perfectly. His teacher was apparently getting ready to relax, if it was possible for the over-stressed man. After settling himself on the seat, Snape reached out for a book – and met only the table. Confused, he got up and began scanning the book piles, looking for a specific text.

Harry felt his heart beat faster. Why did I have to pick up _that_ book? Not daring to move, Harry tightened his grip on the Rominla book while Snape searched through the piles.

"Where is that book?" Snape growled. Harry watched from his – hopefully – safe, invisible, open corner, hoping that Snape wouldn't think to summon the book.

He didn't, thankfully, and appeared to give up. He stalked into the room opposite the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar.

Harry let out a silent sigh of relief. Maybe now he should breathe deeply for a while, or do anything that would calm his nerves. After all, Snape was only more likely to sense something wrong if Harry was hyperventilating in the corner.

_Well, since I have nothing else to do…_ Harry opened the book again and kept reading about Rominla. Who was nutters enough to write a whole book about one potion ingredient?

About half an hour later, he was struggling to keep his eyes open. Snape must be in bed by now, Harry thought. He stood and stretched his stiff muscles, then placed the book horizontally on a shelf. Snape had put several other books there, and Harry was hoping that his professor would find it there and think that he had simply mislaid it. He hadn't checked there, after all.

Harry took one last look around the room. He had been looking for something – anything – that would inspire a prank, but he found nothing.

Did Snape do anything other than teach, read, and grade? There didn't seem to be anything odd about the man. Well, other than his nasty temper. He didn't even have some kind of little secret to exploit. Harry was beginning to despair over this assignment.

Maybe he'd find a way to release something that belonged to the twins into Snape's office…or something. It'd be a prank and all this would be over. It wasn't as if he could compete with what the twins had done to Dumbledore…or Luna's prank on McGonagall.

As a last act of desperation, Harry walked over to what must be the bedroom and peeked into the darkness. As his eyes adjusted, he could make out Snape's sleeping form lying on top of a large canopy bed.

It looked just like the parlour, except that there were no bookshelves or tables. There was almost nothing in there except the bed, a nightstand, and a chest of drawers.

Looking closely at some pictures on the nightstand, Harry started in surprise as he saw a familiar figure in each of them.

They were all still, obviously Muggle-taken, and seemed to be several years old. The largest one had two children in it, both younger than first-years, but not by much. One appeared to be a much-younger Snape. He was smiling (causing Harry to blink) and holding hands with a girl, who was grinning back at him. She had familiar bright green eyes and red hair…

_Mum,_ Harry thought, almost saying the name aloud. He reached for the picture, only to stop himself, as he remembered where he was.

_What's Snape doing with my mum?_ He asked himself, looking suspiciously over at the sleeping man. _And why does he have so many pictures of her?_

Looking closer at the pictures, he realized they reminded him of other pictures he looked at frequently; they felt like the ones taken of him, Ron and Hermione – friends. They must have been friends.

At this strange, unwelcome realization, Harry shook his head and took a few steps backward. It didn't make sense at all. Severus Snape and Lily Evans had been friends? But Snape hated Harry Potter! Hated looking at him, hated how he acted...

Snape rolled over, and Harry's heart almost stopped. As soon as the man stilled again, he crept out of the room and headed straight for Gryffindor Tower.

OoOoOoOoO

The next day in Potions, Tuesday, Harry made sure to do his best, hoping to avoid any extra attention from his teacher. It worked, but by the end of the class period, Harry was rethinking his decision to confront Snape.

He had returned to the Common Room at 1:00am. No one had been there except Ron and Hermione, who had been waiting for him. They had been (understandably) worried about his return, but he hadn't told them much. Ron had been satisfied with an assurance that Harry hadn't gotten himself caught, but Hermione had continued to worry after she heard that Harry hadn't thought of any ideas. She, of course, already had a full page of ideas for her prank, and it wasn't planned until Saturday!

Harry wasn't really worried about the prank anymore. He never had been, really. He just wanted to find out exactly how Snape had known Harry's mum, and why no one had ever told Harry about it. If Snape had known his mum, even for a little while, Harry was willing to sit through some extra insults to hear some things about her.

At least, he had thought so that morning. Now that Snape was actually in front of him, and he had to go up and ask his teacher about his mother, Harry felt very nervous about the whole business.

He made his decision when he had no other choice; it was either leave with Ron and Hermione or stay and talk with Snape. Harry chose to stay, motioning to his friends that he'll be along.

Turning to Snape, Harry knew he had time. Both he and the Potions Master had a free period, but when Harry caught sight of the signature glare, it made him reconsider – again.

"Potter, I'm sure you have somewhere to be," Snape said smoothly, telling Harry, in the usual underhanded way, that he was to leave – now.

"Sir," Harry asked politely, "Were you really a friend of my mother?"

That stopped Snape in his tracks. Of all the things Harry could have been there for, that seemed to have never crossed his mind. Hesitantly but smoothly, Snape turned toward him.

"And what would give you such an idea?" Snape spoke clearly and harshly, narrowing his eyes toward Harry.

"My Aunt Petunia said something like that once." Harry stopped there. Surely Aunt Petunia had some inkling as to who Lily Potter's friends were, right? They had been sisters.

Snape didn't answer at first. He just looked at Harry with the blank glare that always made him want to start fidgeting.

"Your mother is not something I wish to speak of," Snape finally answered. "Get out."

Harry did, extremely disappointed. He wondered what could have happened between Lily and his teacher that would cause Snape to act that way.

After thinking about it for a bit, Harry decided that he probably didn't want to know. He already knew that Snape was a very nasty person, and that had probably been enough of a reason for Lily. Now, though, he had a reason to pull the prank, what with Snape refusing to tell him about his mother. And it was going to be _good._

OoOoOoOoO

Harry realized that he was going to want something that he could set up, then watch it go off. After all, he really didn't want to be caught, and anything that would require him to actually do anything at the time would be too hard to pull off unnoticed.

The twins had been helpful enough to point him toward several books with timing charms, but refused to do any of the hard work for him. Consequently, Harry spent most of his free time that day researching charms and doing all the calculations so that the charms would trigger at the right times. He would also have to get into the classroom that night and set everything up, but that shouldn't be too hard.

Then there was the problem of choosing pranks to set up. Harry decided not to use anything that the Weasley twins had invented, because that would make all the Gryffindor boys look suspicious. While Harry was in the library, he found several charms that would interact with the timing spells, and quickly copied down ones that looked promising. Harry became so absorbed in the planning that he missed dinner, so Ron had to bring him up some bread, meat, and broccoli.

That evening, after watching the Snape dot preparing to leave the potions classroom, Harry put his Cloak back on and snuck down to the dungeons for the second night in a row. Slipping inside behind Snape, Harry quickly attached his spells to locations in the classroom: the desk, floor, and ingredient cupboard. After adding the timing spells, he ran up to the Common Room, hoping to get at least 6 hours of sleep before having to wake up the next morning.

After all, he wanted to see the prank with a well-rested mind.

OoOoOoOoO

Harry did his best to keep calm as he walked into the potions classroom, talking with Ron and Hermione as usual. He hadn't told anyone when in the day the prank would take place, nor exactly what he was planning. Only a few people knew that it was Harry, and most of them wouldn't expect him to do something this generic... It was a first, anyway.

This lesson would be the one, if nothing had gone wrong with his timing charms, and he was extremely ambivalent. He didn't know whether he should be excited that it was going to work or worried that he might get caught or guilty because, really, pranking someone like this wasn't really... nice at all.

Harry sat down in his usual spot and took out his book and notebook, looking as bored as he usually did in Potions. Apparently, when he really didn't want to be caught, acting normal was easy.

Snape glided in, as usual, lecturing on the potion that they were going to make that day. He moved back and forth between the desk and the students, passing back their essays. What was unusual was that, for once, Harry actually understood what Snape was talking about. He had spent yesterday researching the potion (and various other things) in order to sabotage the ingredient cupboard.

The first indication that the first prank had activated came when Snape stopped in front of his desk, still holding a few rolls of assignments. At first glance, everything seemed as though Snape was just concentrating on what he was saying, as he had begun discussing what not to do, but soon it was obvious that something was off. Snape, without moving from his spot, slid the remaining assignments on the desk behind him and continued to lecture.

Harry pretended not to notice that Snape was stuck to the floor, continuing to doodle on his parchment without looking up. It wasn't until Harry heard the first giggle from the back of the room that he looked up.

"Miss Brown, 5 points from Gryffindor!"

Snape was, to put it nicely, glaring. Harry looked up innocently, and then watched as Snape pulled out his wand and waved it about slightly – obviously cancelling the spell.

"Get to work. The ingredients are in the cupboard," Snape snapped, before sitting down at his desk. After checking the ingredient list, Harry stood to gather what he needed for the potion: two different powdered ingredients, a few cat whiskers, and a few other disgusting-looking magical creature parts.

Today's potion was an individual project, so Harry set up his own cauldron and began working quietly, asking Hermione a few questions here and there, as usual.

Fifteen minutes later, it was Hermione's turn to ask a question.

"Harry, Ron, does your Bicorn Horn look odd to you?" she asked, and Harry glanced her way before shrugging.

"I haven't gotten there yet." He heard an ominous hiss from his own cauldron and turned back to it, immediately adding two cat hairs and counting to twenty before mixing three times counter clockwise.

"Sorry," Hermione whispered, obviously feeling guilty at almost causing her friend to mess up his potion. Harry shrugged, and Hermione added the powered 'Bicorn Horn', obviously hesitant about the ingredient.

Five minutes later, Harry added the powdered Bicorn Horn to his cauldron and Hermione added a sliced newt eye to hers. Those at the surrounding benches jumped, as there was a series of small bangs issuing from Hermione's potion before it started boiling and hissing. Harry and Ron backed away while Hermione just stared at her cauldron.

"Miss Granger!" Snape said from his desk. "What could _you_ have possibly gotten wrong?"

"It wasn't me, sir! The Bicorn Horn... something's wrong with it!"

"There is nothing wrong with the horn," Snape snapped. "It was powdered last night."

Hermione stared dejectedly at her now-empty cauldron. Harry would have felt bad if he hadn't known that everyone else's potion would be doing the very same thing in a moment.

And Harry was right. Soon after Hermione's cauldron had exploded, there were clusters of small bangs and pops from all around the room. Harry looked around the room, trying to look surprised that everyone was getting the potion wrong. To make it look like he was trying his best not to mess up the potion, Harry kept checking his book. He knew he was doing it right. Harry wanted to make sure his cauldron exploded, too. After all, it would look extremely suspicious if his _didn't_.

Ten minutes after Hermione's, Harry cauldron exploded too.

"It was after I put in the eyes!" Harry told Hermione quietly. "I was doing it right!"

"It has to be the eyes," Harry heard from behind him, and everyone who got that far – except Hermione – agreed.

"What is the matter?" Snape asked slowly, dangerously.

"Something's wrong with the newt eyes!" Malfoy exclaimed. "All the cauldrons exploded when the eyes went in!!"

"It's the horn," Hermione said, raising her voice. "It's all wrong. The texture, even the colour's a bit off."

Snape, seemingly ignoring his students, stood up shakily. He used the desk to steady himself, but once he got far enough away that he couldn't hold on, he suddenly collapsed. Several gasps were heard from around the classroom, and two of the Slytherin girls stood up to see if he was alright.

"Class dismissed! Clean up your stations and leave," snapped Snape. The class didn't move at first; they all stayed and watched as Snape slowly stood up with the help of two Slytherins and glared, leaning on his desk. "GO!" It was apparent that Snape was losing his temper. Fast. "Potter, stay behind!"

Harry's eyes widened, and he sat frozen as the rest of the class filed out. Harry caught Hermione's worried look, but Harry ignored her – he had to find a way out of this!

"P-Professor?" Harry finally asked once all the other students were gone. "Why did you want me to stay?"

"This was your doing, wasn't it?" Snape hissed dangerously.

"What was?" Harry asked, defiantly. He sounded just like he did when Dudley accused him of something that he hadn't done.

"This... prank. The ingredients, the floor glue, the sponge-knee charm on the desk . . ."

"Prank?" Harry asked, affronted. "I wouldn't prank someone like that unless they were a friend... and they knew something was coming! And besides, what's funny about someone not able to walk? No one was laughing!"

"You apparently meant for them to laugh," Snape snapped.

"I didn't do anything! Why are you blaming me?"

"You go around, breaking rules, is what you do! It's revenge for refusing to speak of your mother."

Harry started, then hardened his face. "If I were to get revenge for something – especially something stupid like that – I wouldn't do it in public! It's horrible! My cousin did something like that to me once, after I told on him to a teacher for ruining a pencil sharpener. It was embarrassing! I wouldn't! I swear!" Harry knew that he was probably giving away too much information, but it didn't matter right now. He did not want to get caught.

Snape stared, looking deeply into Harry's eyes. Harry looked back stubbornly, remembering how horrible he'd felt when Dudley had pranked him. After a few seconds, he looked away. Eye contact during a quiet moment like that always made him nervous.

"Go. If I hear any evidence that it was you who set this up, your free time will be very limited."

Harry sighed, relieved that he was getting off with nothing worse than a threat, and was about to gather his belongings when he turned to Snape.

"Do you . . . want me to call Madam Pomfrey?" Snape continued to glare at him, so he got his things and left as quickly as he could.

He made it.

**A/N: **Please review!


	5. Hermione Granger

A/N: This is a collaborative effort by the House of Ravenclaw, from the ThirdFloorCorridor. This chapter was written by AutumnBreeze12 and betaed by Morwen. Prank suggestion made by Lena Andromeda Black 

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Hermione gave a triumphant sigh—she didn't dare make a louder noise in the library, as she didn't want to get kicked out at the moment—and shut the book with an audible snap. She leaned back in her chair and stretched her arms above her head, thinking about how the library needed newer, more comfortable chairs. Her back gave a few loud pops and cracks, reminding her that she had been in the library for some time.

Hermione gathered up her notes and briefly shuffled them around, trying to organize them. She had been using the same three sheets of parchment since Sunday, when she had begun brainstorming ideas. After a week, they were rather worn out. The once-clean papers were covered with crossed out spells, circled bits of information, and vetoed ideas. Hermione frowned slightly at the mess and promised herself that next time she would be neater.

Cramming the notes into her already overstuffed bag (held together by a few handy charms), Hermione got up, preparing to leave the library. She returned the book to its shelf and took down the privacy spells that she had set up around her table, ensuring that she would not be bothered.

Walking out of the library, she allowed herself a small smirk as she dwelt on her well-researched plan.

OoOoOoOoO

She tried to make her footsteps as quiet as possible as she snuck down the corridor. It was very late, and the castle was pitch black all around. She had stolen Harry's Invisibility Cloak and the Marauder's Map (she would be able to return them by tomorrow—he would never know that they were gone) and she was heading away from the common room. She studied the Map for a moment before taking out her wand and murmuring, "Mischief managed."

This done, she altered her course slightly and instead of continuing straight, she turned down a side passageway, unseen to any normal eyes. If it weren't for the Map she wouldn't have known it was even there. As she crept down the passage, she listened to her heart beating loudly in the silence. _Thump, thump, thump…_

She took a deep breath and continued down the passageway, not allowing herself to lose her head over what was about to happen. She didn't want to panic and end up not completing the task she had given herself.

She clutched the Invisibility Cloak more tightly around herself as she left the secret passageway and came out into one of the main corridors. There she was – Hermione's target. The bane of Hogwarts existence, the most hated teacher in history. Dolores Umbitch—no, Umbridge, she mentally corrected herself. Using that derogatory term was beneath her, Hermione Granger. She had better things to be doing then sitting around mocking the teachers.

_Like pranking them_, she thought to herself.

Her wand, already out, was warm in her hand as she raised it and pointed it at Umbridge's back. Visualizing her notes, she selected one of the more…_humourous_ spells from her list. Taking a deep, quiet breath, she muttered the spell and watched to see it take effect.

Umbridge jumped and looked around nervously, trying to spot anyone around her. Then she reached down and began to itch some of her more… _private _parts.

Hermione smiled. The first spell was a success! She backed away into the secret passageway and headed back to Gryffindor Tower, and some much-needed sleep.

OoOoOoOoO

Wednesday's lunch found Hermione sitting serenely at the Gryffindor Table while the 5th year students around her snickered. Umbitch—_Umbridge _was seen sitting uncomfortably at the Head Table, shifting every once in a while. Her ugly face was twisted into a pained grimace and both her hands were on the table, the stubby fingers tapping hard on the surface. Every once in a while one of the hands would disappear from the table and would seemingly vanish, but everyone knew what they were doing.

It had started as an average, ordinary day for everyone. The residents of Gryffindor Tower had gotten up, grumbling about the "early hour," then proceeded down to breakfast after getting ready for the day. That was when their ordinary day went flying out the window.

Umbridge would itch whenever she thought that nobody was looking—but of course everyone _was_ looking. By lunch everyone knew that Umbridge had been pranked. Several people went up to congratulate the twins, but became confused when the two Weasleys refused to take credit.

"Wasn't us."

"But we offer our congratulations to…

"…The one who did! "

When it became obvious that the twins weren't the perpetrators of _this_ prank, Gryffindor began to wonder if Harry had done it. He certainly had a reason to hate the toad-like professor. But as Harry just sat at breakfast chewing his lip and didn't show the expected amount of interest in Umbridge's _condition_, no one believed that idea for long.

Umbitch (no, _-bridge)_ herself wasn't taking action to find the pranker, because she was firmly denying that anything had happened. She still tried not to itch, but Hermione knew that the spell would gradually worsen, and the DADA teacher would be more miserable as the day went on. The woman was itching more and more as every minute passed. And it was taking a toll on her.

Hermione smiled and daintily lifted her cup to her lips, commenting on how crude the joke was to her incredulous Housemates.

"What do you mean, crude?! I think it's bloody brilliant," declared Seamus. "I think the pranker should get an award for this!"

"They could have done something a bit more decent. You may enjoy watching her do that, but should that tell me something? Most of us aren't attracted to toads," Hermione wittily replied. Seamus glared at her for a moment, but apparently decided not to let her comments disrupt his enjoyment of the toad's misery.

OoOoOoOoO

That night, Hermione snuck out after curfew again. She had swiped the Cloak and Map from Harry—again—and she knew that he probably wouldn't miss them tonight, as he hadn't last night. At least, he hadn't said anything to her about it. After all, he had finished his first prank, and the other one wasn't for another week. He could spare it for a few nights.

This time she was traveling towards the towers. She slipped through a tapestry, and then through a door that looked like a wall, and before she knew it she was in another main corridor. Umbitch—she was just going to start calling the woman that, since she obviously couldn't correct herself: she was just going to make sure she didn't say it to the woman's face—was standing in the middle of the corridor, scratching hard. Her toad-like face was pinched as she tried vainly to relieve the itch.

Hermione smiled and pointed her wand. The spell she cast was silent—it had taken her hours to perfect this spell wordlessly, but she couldn't take the chance of getting caught.

She would have to wait until tomorrow to see if the spell worked, Hermione knew. She turned around, and then promptly stumbled on a small nick on the floor. She was sure her feet flashed, but being _seen_ wasn't her primary concern. While steadying herself, she had slapped her hand against the wall, and the sound echoed all around the corridor.

"Who's there?" asked Umbridge. As soon as she spoke, she clapped her hand over her mouth. Instead of her usual high, annoying soprano, her voice was a low croaking sound, like a frog's.

Hermione smiled. She had been able to test out the prank after all.

However, it seemed that the Umbitch had realized that the pranker was still in the corridor. "Who's there?" she croaked, this time with more authority in her voice. "If you do not show yourself, I will be forced to take action!"

Hermione covered her mouth to contain her giggles as she watched Umbridge flounder around, trying to convince Hermione to come out of hiding. While she was finding this amusing, her heart was beating wildly. _I should get back_, she told herself, but she couldn't bring herself to. Watching Umbridge make a fool of herself was much more fun then sleeping.

However, Umbridge soon fell silent and Hermione was sure that Umbridge would be able to hear the loud thumping of her heart. Hermione took a deep breath, then instantly regretted it. It had not been a silent one.

Umbridge swung toward the sound, wand raised threateningly. "Reveal yourself!" she shouted, sounding as menacing as one could with a croak. Hermione shrunk against the wall and began to slink away, hoping to be undetected. Her foot scuffled against the floor, and Umbridge shot out a non-verbal hex. It hit, squarely in Hermione's chest.

She turned on her heel and fled, running down the corridor. Her footsteps echoed harshly in the silence, and she could hear Umbridge following the sounds. Hermione took a passageway that she was sure that Umbridge didn't know of, and stopped running instantly.

Her chest heaved in silent, deep breaths, trying to not make a sound as Umbridge stopped, not knowing where her mysterious attacker had gone. Hermione began to sneak away, but she suddenly felt an acidic pain on her chest. The Umbitch's hex! What had it done to her?! Hermione took a deep, calming breath— thankfully, silent—and snuck back to Gryffindor Tower, trying to ignore the burning.

OoOoOoOoO

"Oh, _ow_," moaned Hermione as she woke up the next morning. Her entire chest felt like it was on fire. Just breathing hurt! She sat up gingerly, wincing as it incited a particularly painful reaction from her chest. She got up, containing another wince as she stumbled over to the bathroom. The other girls were still in bed, just now starting to stir. Hermione gathered her bath things before entering the bathroom and quickly locking it.

She hadn't yet looked at the damage the Umbitch's spell had done. However, now that it was morning, Hermione had some time to examine the effect of the hex. She paused before completely undressing in front of the mirror.

She gasped at the sight of her injured chest. Right above the swell of her breasts, and under her collarbone, was the nastiest burn she had ever seen. It spread from armpit to armpit, and was an angry shade of red. She touched it softly and nearly cried out in pain. _No wonder I slept so badly. _As it was, her eyes stung with tears, adding to the stinging pain of the hex.

She took a deep breath to keep from crying, but lost the battle as her lungs stretched, stressing the skin on her chest. More tears trickled down her face. She angrily wiped them away and glared at the burn. She knew she wouldn't be able to go to Pomfrey for this, because it would identify her as Umbridge's pranker. However, she was good at research, and she _would_ find the remedy to this.

She got her retribution for the pain at breakfast, when the Umbitch waddled—_walked _into the Hall. Hermione barely restrained herself from glaring at the Toad as she reached for some toast, wincing slightly as she stretched the skin on her chest again.

A commotion broke out among a seventh year Ravenclaw and a sixth year Slytherin. Umbitch waddled—Hermione decided not to correct herself on this word either—over to them, and began to tell them off.

The entire Hall went silent as Umbitch starting talking. Her horribly annoying voice was now a low croak, punctuated with occasional hiccups.

And then the entire Hall burst out into laughter.

Hermione managed a smile. She wouldn't laugh, because it would sting like hell, and the Toad wasn't worth it. Umbitch waddled—no, she _wouldn't_ correct herself—up to the Staff Table and stood still for a moment. The next sound out of her mouth was her signature cough. Or at least an attempt.

"_Croak, croak,"_ came out of the teacher's wide mouth instead of her usual "Hem-hem". This created more laughter, this time louder and more rowdy.

"_Enough!_ Now, as you can all plainly see—or hear—_Someone_ has _dared_ (croak) to attack a _ministry-appointed_ teacher with foolish tricks. The perpetrator _will _be caught and punished. However, if you wish to help in the search, look for someone (croak) with a burn and report them to me. I believe that this particular troublemaker has a rather nasty one," said Umbitch. The students began to whisper among themselves at this announcement.

"Wonder who it could be," Ron said wryly, as he buttered his toast and proceeded to shovel it down his throat. Hermione caught his eye, shook her head slightly, and turned away from Ron, hoping that he wouldn't give her away.

"It's not the twins. They would admit it, to the other Gryffindors if no one else." said Hermione sensibly. She sensed a group of first-years sitting nearby, trying to hear what the older students were saying. Harry gave his two friends a quick look, then said, "It's probably some Ravenclaw. None of the Slytherins would have done anything to her."

Giving Harry a grateful look, Hermione continued, looking thoughtful. "True. They seem to love her. Have you seen anyone with a burn?"

Ron looked a little concerned, but seemed to get the hint – for once – and simply shook his head. Harry chimed in with a comment about Quidditch, and the subject was dropped.

Hermione breathed a silent sigh of relief.

After all, who would suspect _her_?

OoOoOoOoO

That afternoon, after a quick explanation, Ron and Harry left for Quidditch practice, leaving Hermione in the library, flipping through medical books. She was unsuccessful in her attempts to finding anything about the unidentified burn, and most of the books she looked through said only that she would have to know which hex was used. After searching through several books about burns, hexes, and jinxes, Hermione could feel her confidence wavering.

She glanced over at the Restricted Section. Would it have the book she needed?

She nearly drifted over, but stopped herself in time. Madam Pince would be at her side in a second if she saw her anywhere near that Section. Hermione gave a woeful glance at the books there before turning away. If nothing else, she needed to find a temporary numbing spell.

OoOoOoOoO

That night, Hermione was once again sneaking along the corridors under the Cloak. Her hands clutched tightly at the fluid fabric, and she made sure her footsteps were steady as she went through one secret passage after another, finally coming out somewhere in the dungeons.

A dungeon corridor, to be exact. With - surprise surprise - Umbitch. Hermione's eyes glinted almost evilly as she stalked silently forward on the stone floor. She raised her wand, murmuring the next incantation. Before the spell took hold, the young witch added a time-delay to the charmed item, then nodded, slipping away once more.

OoOoOoOoO

Breakfast was a quiet affair. So was lunch. Umbitch was preening, telling the other teachers that obviously, she had made it clear that there would be no tolerance for anymore pranks.

Hermione reined in a smile.

Dinner was when Umbitch's day—and credibility as a disciplinarian—went into the toilet. Her pink, hideous bow, sitting innocently on top of her head, suddenly leapt into action. It seemed to come alive, snarling and eating large chunks of Umbridge's hair.

Umbridge started screaming. Her voice, still low and croaky, sounded ridiculous. The Professors all jumped up in surprise, wands at the ready. However, they made no move to help her as the bow devoured her hair and continued on, chewing at her scalp.

"GET IT OFF ME! GET IT (croak) _OFF_!" she croaked, clawing at her head. After a moment, the bow suddenly fell still, sitting innocently atop her head once more. Umbridge was almost completely bald, with only a few tufts of hair drooping from her mangled head. The now-docile bow sat upon Umbridge's forehead; the only orderly part of her appearance.

There was complete and utter silence in the Hall for a very long moment. As the shock began to wear off, there were several snickers over Umbridge's hairless state. The snickers became louder, growing into full blown laughter. The roaring sound continued to rise, louder and louder, until dust began to fall from the bewitched roof of the Hall.

Hermione partook in a simple smile. Because of the stinging pain in her chest, she could not laugh with the others, though she dearly wanted to. She would have to find the counter-curse, and soon.

OoOoOoOoO

"Why isn't it _here_?!" Hermione had reached utter frustration. She was still in pain from the Umbitch's hex, but none of the books she had tried had given her the information she needed. Her chest still burned as if the hex had just struck, and every movement stung like lemon juice in a cut.

Still, shouting in the library was a bad idea. Several startled heads whipped toward her, but that was nothing next to the glaring Madam Pince swooping down upon the Gryffindor.

"What are you doing? Silence should be maintained in the library at all times!" she snapped.

"I… I couldn't find the answer…" muttered Hermione, looking anywhere but at the librarian.

"Well then, you can search some other place. Out! _Out!_" snapped Madam Pince.

"What? No! I need to find the remedy to the—" Hermione cut herself off, mentally smacking herself. _Idiot! The last thing I need is for someone to find out about this!_

"The remedy to _what,_ girl?" snarled Madam Pince.

"Nothing," murmured Hermione, pushing her books into a pile. "I'll just be leaving." She bent down, picking her bag off the ground where it sat beside her chair.

"Miss Granger," Her head shot up at the librarian's hiss. "What is that on your chest?"

"Nothing," said Hermione, hurriedly. "Nothing at all!" She gave herself another mental slap. _Why_ had she bent over in front of the librarian?

Madam Pince's eyes narrowed suspiciously before sweeping the library. Some curious Hufflepuffs were craning their necks, trying to see if Gryffindor's star student was in trouble. Madam Pince grabbed Hermione's hand and dragged her to a private corner of the library before returning to the question.

"Once more, Miss Granger. _What_ _is on your chest?_"

"I… accidentally burnt myself," admitted Hermione. "I was looking for the remedy instead of going to Madam Pomfrey because… because… because I wanted to learn more about magical remedies," Hermione could have kicked herself for the lame excuse, but it was too late now. Madam Pince narrowed her eyes—it was obvious that she didn't believe it.

"And _how_ did you burn yourself?" she asked.

"Accidental charm," said Hermione promptly.

"I remember Professor Umbridge saying that the student pranking her had a burn," said Madam Pince suspiciously.

"Are you saying that you suspect _me_?" asked Hermione, making sure to inject incredulity in her voice. After all, why would the top 5th year student be pranking the DADA teacher?

"May I see that burn, Miss Granger?" Without waiting for an answer, Madam Pince pulled quickly but gently at Hermione's shirt, revealing the angry red covering her collarbone.

She glanced at the burn and nodded. "That, Miss Granger, was _not _a fifth-year spell. This came from a burning hex, and one that was borderline Dark Arts. I happen to know the reversal for the curse. However…"

"…you have to tell Umbitc—Umbridge about this?" finished Hermione glumly.

"That is what she says. I, however, do not like the way she handles my books. I am willing to let you off this once," said Madam Pince sternly. "Stay here," she ordered as she marched away toward some bookshelves. Hermione stayed where she was, nervously shifting from foot to foot. Did this mean she was off the hook?

Madam Pince came back a moment later with an ancient-looking book. "The remedy is in this book. I expect it back tomorrow, Miss Granger. Look at page thirty-four, and I advise you not to read anything else in this book, as some of the other spells are… gruesome," said Madam Pince, wrinkling her nose.

"Thank you!" squeaked out Hermione. She had been in constant pain for two days, and now that she was going to be rid of it, the burning seemed to subside a little as she clutched the book to her stomach. She gave Madam Pince a grateful smile before fleeing the library and going to the girl's dormitory, eager to look up the remedy and cure herself.

OoOoOoOoO

On Thursday night, Hermione Granger was creeping along the corridors one last time. Her wand was ready, but the Umbitch wasn't that far from the common room. Hermione hadn't even needed the Invisibility Cloak this time.

She crept into the corridor, spying the Umbitch on the other end. Hermione felt a thrill of satisfaction curl in her stomach as she glared at the Toad. Umbridge's hair was almost completely shorn off. She had heard rumors that not even Madam Pomfrey could grow it back with magic. Either her spell had really done its work, or Madam Pomfrey hated the Professor as much as the students did. The other pranks were still active, in varying degrees. The Umbitch was still croaking every time she spoke, and the itching remained—though it was beginning to wear off.

Hermione lifted her wand, pointed it at Umbridge, and murmured an incantation. This particular spell had a vivid light, unlike the others—something Hermione had forgotten about. She gasped silently, then jumped into the shadows as the curse struck. Thankfully Umbridge was turned away and didn't seem to have seen the yellow spell fired from the other side of the shadowy corridor.

Hermione slipped away unnoticed. Again.

OoOoOoOoO

The next morning people were barely containing their laughter at the sight of their Professor. Her hair was gone, she was croaking rather loudly at people, she kept itching…_places_, and her skin was completely greenish brown. Like a toad's. She glared menacingly at people as they passed by, which only prompted more laughter, especially from the Gryffindor table.

"The person pranking her is brilliant!" gushed Dean as Umbridge passed them by. "I wish I could congratulate him for a job well done!

"Who knows?" said Hermione. "Come on, we'll late for class."

As she passed Madam Pince on her way out of the Hall, she could have sworn that the librarian winked at her.


	6. Harry and Ginny

**A/N**: This is a collaborative effort by the House of Ravenclaw, from the ThirdFloorCorridor. This chapter was written by Smokey2307 and betaed by Morwen. The Howler was written by Esir.

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Ow!" Ginny hissed as they descended another flight of steps. "Harry, that was my toe."

"Sorry," he whispered back, tugging the Cloak more firmly around himself. "We're nearly there, it's just around the corner – keep quiet."

Harry had the feeling that Ginny was about to retort, so he dug his elbow in her ribs as they reached the far wall, the area only dimly lit by six flickering torches that lined the corridor. They barely had time to collect themselves before a first-year tumbled down the steps that they had just descended, panting heavily.

"Potter smells." He gasped out, and Harry started. Could he see them? Had the Cloak failed somehow? Were there…

Harry's train of thought was broken as Ginny pushed him roughly through the concealed door that had opened up in the wall as the first-year had spoken.

"It was just the password, you idiot." Ginny breathed, and he felt some of the tension in his shoulders subside. They stuck to the shadows as they manoeuvred around to the fifth year dorm, despite the fact that they were wearing the Cloak and both had Disillusionment Charms on – though in the weak green light, it hardly mattered. Harry pulled the Marauder's Map out of his pocket and sighed, pointing to the dot that was moving around in the room in front of them.

He felt Ginny shrug beside him, then jumped as the end of her wand sparked. He had no time to rebuke her though – there was a sudden, high-pitched squealing, and the firework in her hand shot out from under the Cloak to careen madly around the Common Room, complete with bangs, flashes, and the occasional tongue of fire.

"Ginny, you're fantastic." Harry whispered gleefully over the commotion as the fifth year dorm door banged open and Draco Malfoy stormed out, wand brandished and silver eyes blazing.

"Don't thank me, thank the twins." She replied ruefully. At Harry's unasked question, she elaborated. "I nicked it from their office." He nodded, and they hurried into the dorm as the Slytherin attempted to control the firework, pausing only a moment to take in the Slytherin Dorms.

"That's got to be his." Harry said wryly, pointing to the emerald green bed in the centre. A shining Nimbus 2001 was propped up beside it, and the pillows both had an italic 'M' embroidered on them in silver thread.

"I'll keep watch, I'll set off another firework if someone's coming." Ginny murmured, and Harry nodded absently.

"Take the Cloak."

He felt the fluid material slide off him as she moved away, and for a few moment he felt completely naked, entirely exposed, despite the Disillusionment Charm. He shook the feeling off and began searching through Malfoy's possessions.

"Try under the mattress." Ginny hissed from beside the door, and Harry stared in her direction incredulously.

"You can't be serious." He said in a disbelieving tone. "Nobody actually does that!"

"Ron does." Ginny said bluntly, and Harry blinked, turning back to the bed. He lifted up the mattress with a grunt, and sure enough, there were letters lying there, along with a variety of silvery objects. He grabbed a handful of parchment as there was another bang and a second firework whizzed around the room.

"Harry, quickly!" Ginny whispered, and Harry leapt across the room, colliding with Ginny's invisible form and slipping under the Cloak as Malfoy stalked back into the dormitory.

He ducked as the firework screeched over his head and out into the Common Room, where it was greeted by more shouts and startled cries. Malfoy straightened, brushing ash off his robes – Harry assumed that it was he who had disposed of the first firework – and took another step into the room before freezing, his eyes rooted to the floor beside his bed. Harry followed his eyes.

There was a stray piece of parchment on the stone. Harry swore softly – he must have dropped one of Malfoy's letters as he dove for cover.

"Let's go, quick." Ginny muttered as Malfoy crossed the room briskly, bending to pick up the parchment and peering at it. "Now, before he realises something's up." She began to edge out of the door, taking Harry with her.

"Potter?"

Harry was so shocked by Malfoy's astounded tone that he walked straight into the door. The other boy was staring right at them, though they were invisible.

"Are you there, Potter?"

Harry's heart lurched as Malfoy strode over to them, realisation hitting him like a freezing cold wave. It wasn't a letter that Malfoy was holding.

It was the Marauder's Map.

Panic rooted Harry to the spot as Malfoy inched closer, squinting alternately at the Map and where he assumed Harry and Ginny to be standing. He was now within two feet of them, his hand reaching out ever so slightly, as though he wanted to feel the air for them but was afraid to.

Ginny stamped on Harry's foot, and the pain was enough to get him moving.

"Mischief managed!" he yelled, smacking the Map with his wand, and at the same time Malfoy plucked up the courage to raise his hand, the tips of his fingers connecting briefly with Harry's cheek.

In the split second that followed, a number of emotions swept over Malfoy's face – shock, amazement, confusion, envy, and then finally fury, as he glanced down at where Harry had struck the parchment and saw that the spidery writing was gone.

A snarl of rage grew in Malfoy's throat, and before he had time to turn it into a curse, Harry pushed Ginny out into the Common Room, where Fred and George's firework was still wreaking havoc. They ran to the exit whilst still under the Cloak, trying to avoid Slytherins as the firework cartwheeled overhead.

They slammed into the wall that led to the corridor beyond and it opened for them – luckily, the rest of the Slytherins were too engrossed in the now singing firework to pay any attention to the wall opening up to nobody.

Harry could hear Malfoy following them as they ran down the corridor and slowed to a halt, pulling Ginny with him to stand beside a statue as they reached a junction of corridors. Without the sound of their pounding feet to follow, Malfoy could not catch them. He looked down all the corridors, hearing nothing, and with a wordless cry of rage he turned on his heel and retreated to the Slytherin Common Room, the blank Map still clutched in his hand.

OoOoOoOoO

"You were very lucky, I hope you know that." Hermione said gravely as Harry collapsed in the armchair next to her. "If Malfoy had grabbed the Cloak…"

"Yeah, well he didn't, did he?" Ron retorted, sifting through the letters that Harry and Ginny had managed to acquire. "Mind, I wish I'd been there to see his face." He added wistfully, and Harry smiled back – but his heart wasn't in it. He had realised, with a sinking feeling, that if Malfoy were to show Snape the Map, then it would all be over. After all, Snape had seen the Map back in the third year, had even been insulted by it…

"There's nothing good here, mate." Ron said, sounding disappointed. "They're all from his mum and dad, but they must be in some sort of code – there's noting incriminating or embarrassing." He threw the letters down on the table and leaned back in his chair. "I reckon you wasted your time."

"There must be something we can do." Harry said irritably, scanning a letter from Lucius. "I mean… can we not, I don't know, rearrange the words or something, then post it around school?"

He dropped the letter that he was holding as Ginny gasped, then squealed excitedly.

"Oh, but Harry that's perfect!" she exclaimed, grabbing at one of Narcissa's letters from the pile. She began scanning it quickly, a look of triumph on her face.

"Ginny?" Harry asked slowly. "Are you OK?"

"What?" she looked up impatiently. "Yes, of course I am." She grabbed a nearby piece of parchment and began to scribble furiously.

"But… what are you doing?"

"Don't you see?" she replied, not pausing in her writing. "We can create a howler out of Narcissa Malfoy's words! I know I can do it, I've seen Mum make loads for the twins…Because it's her handwriting, it's her voice that will sound! All I have to do is move words from her actual letter to a fresh piece of parchment, out of order! We can make her say all kinds of things, and send it to him at breakfast…" she paused, and looked up at them, eyes bright. "It's brilliant!"

"If you say so…" Ron said quietly as she resumed her scribbling. "Come on Hermione, let's leave her to it. Fancy a game of chess?"

OoOoOoOoO

Harry scanned the ceiling furtively as he poured honey onto his crumpet. The owls had not yet arrived – but it was just a matter of time. Members of the DA from all three houses kept on glancing at both Harry and Ginny, fully aware that today was the deadline, and that the target was Malfoy. The air was electric with suspense.

"You don't think the owl got lost, do you?" Ron whispered fearfully, spreading too much jam on his toast. "Or maybe Snape found out, and intercepted it!" he groaned, and stared miserably at his breakfast. "We'll get bollocked."

No sooner had he spoken than Ginny choked on her black pudding, nearly knocking over her pumpkin juice in her haste to point skywards, where owls had begun to stream down towards the students.

"There it is!" she gasped, as Neville thumped her on the back. "There's the owl!"

They watched as the owl swooped low, the bright red letter clutched in its talons. As though drawn to it, the rest of the DA turned their heads to watch the owl's descent, excited, and quite aware that this was the prank.

The owl dropped the Howler in front of Malfoy and swooped quickly away, as though it knew what was coming. The whole Hall had fallen silent, anticipating the shouting, and Malfoy stared at it with an expression of complete bewilderment, before it rose into the air and began its tirade.

_Draco Malfoy! I am ashamed to be your mother! I have always known about your secret, and have made sure that no one else would find out, and here you go and ruin everything that I have kept quiet for so long! I have always been careful with your sheets, and you let a wet one out in the open, not caring who might enter your room, and now Madame Lestrange knows that you wet the bed! You have brought shame upon the whole Malfoy family, and that is why I am sending this Howler while the whole school will be listening. You deserve this! I know that you wet your bed the night before you went back to Hogwarts, and the whole school deserves to know that! I am ashamed to be your mother, Draco Malfoy. Let that be known._

For a few moments, the Hall was silent. Malfoy had gone completely white, and was gazing at the remains of the Howler as though it had just sentenced him to death. The rest of the Slytherins were staring at him, aghast. The silence was broken by Goyle, who leaned towards Crabbe.

"Does he really wet the bed?"

It was enough to free the rest of the Hall; a great roar erupted from the Gryffindor table, which spread through the DA members to the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws as they all burst out laughing, applause scattered throughout the hilarity.

Harry had, of course, read through the Howler once Ginny had written it, but her ability to find bizarre words to reorder still surprised him. He reckoned that the bit about Bellatrix Lestrange was her best find.

The teachers began to spread out through the Hall, trying to restore some order, but their commands were simply drowned out by the laughter that was reverberating around the walls. Harry was sure that McGonagall was trying not to smile as she attempted to quiet some hysterical first-years. Grinning, Harry glanced over to the shell-shocked Slytherins, and his bright green eyes locked with Malfoy's angry grey over a plate of hash browns.

Harry swung his legs over the bench and stood, quickly exiting the Hall, walking through the Entrance Hall and down into the grounds. Ginny was only a few steps behind, and he also knew that Malfoy was following – as were Ron and Hermione – without bothering to turn around.

"Furnunculus!"

He ducked instinctively as he heard the Slytherin cast the spell and whirled around, wand drawn. Malfoy was red in the face, his wand arm shaking as he stormed towards Harry.

"I know it was you, Potter!" he howled as he approached. "I saw you on this map!"

Harry watched with mild interest as Malfoy produced the Map from an inner pocket, brandishing it furiously. People were beginning to pour out of the Hall.

"What map?" Harry asked innocently. "Looks like a bit of spare parchment to me."

Malfoy's face contorted with fury, and Harry barely had time to throw up a shield charm before a hex was sent flying his way.

"Harry!" Hermione cried, but Harry waved her away.

"Don't get involved." He said grimly. If anyone was going to get hexed over this, it would be him. Hermione didn't need any responsibility.

Ginny, however, seemed to demand it. She joined Harry as he walked up to the Shield Charm and grinned at the fuming Slytherin.

"I reckon you got what was coming to you." He whispered, so that only Malfoy and Ginny could hear him. The other boy's eyes narrowed in hatred, and he cast a curse so powerful that it broke through the Shield Charm. Harry was thrown backwards by the force of it and landed heavily, blood seeping into his mouth. He jumped to his feet, adrenaline shooting through his veins.

"Stupefy!" he yelled, ducking as Malfoy sent a Stinging Hex towards him, and heard muffled cries as unfortunate onlookers were hit by Malfoy's spell.

"Impedimenta!" That was Ginny. She shot a brilliant stream of light toward Malfoy, but it melted into the wall behind him.

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry's spell hit home, and Malfoy's hawthorn wand soared out of his hand towards Ginny, who caught it deftly. But no sooner had her hand closed around it than all three wands flew toward the end of the corridor, as Snape and McGonagall broke into the ring of students surrounding them.

"My office." McGonagall ordered. "Now."

OoOoOoOoO

**A/N: **Please review!


	7. Aftermath

**A/N:** This is a collaborative effort by the House of Ravenclaw, from the ThirdFloorCorridor. This chapter was written by Morwen and betaed by Esir, Jewel, and Hermioneevenstar.

OoOoOoOoO

Harry and Ginny followed their Head of House into her office with the air of prisoners sentenced to death. It didn't seem to help Harry that his most hated teacher (and prank victim) was behind them, silently herding the two students down the corridor.

Ginny quickly collected herself. Harry had already mentioned that Snape seemed to know who had pranked him. If the Potions professor knew that Harry had been in the dungeons last night…

She didn't want to think about it. It would be far better for Harry if she took the blame, especially because she rarely got in trouble. Also, Snape wasn't obsessed with expelling _her._

And Ginevra Weasley was not going to let Snape expel Harry. Not if she could help it.

So, to get Harry out of this, she would need to explain…quite a lot, actually. She would have to explain why Malfoy had seen both their names on the map, how Harry's map had ended up in the Slytherin dorm, why Malfoy was targeted…it might be rather difficult.

McGonagall's office door swung open ominously and she took her usual place behind her desk as the others filed in. Ginny pulled Harry into the middle of the room, hearing Snape's clicking boots stop beside Harry.

"Mr. Potter." _Uh oh, McGonagall really did sound ticked_. "I demand that you give me some explanations. Why were you cursing Draco Malfoy in the corridors, and why was an item belonging to you found in the Slytherin Common Room last night?"

"Could it be that Harry Potter was in the Slytherin Common Room last night?" Snape asked, almost hissing in anger. "You may have inherited an invisibility cloak, Potter, but that does not give you leave to parade around the school like your arrogant, ignorant, empty-headed father!"

"I don't think that my father is really relevant right now, sir." Harry was holding his head up stiffly, trying to calm himself under the scrutiny of his professors.

"No?" Snape's voice lowered into a snarl. "Perhaps, then, you could enlighten me: where do you get your flagrant disregard for rules, your penchant for making ill-considered plans, and your stubborn insistence on trying to be expelled? Answer me!"

"He wasn't in the Slytherin Common Room last night!"

All three heads turned toward Ginny. She felt a lump in her throat from the look on Snape's face, but she fixed her eyes on McGonagall, determined to get Harry off.

"I-I was the one in the dungeons last night." Ginny hung her head, both to appear ashamed for her audience and to hide her eyes from Snape. It wouldn't do to be Legilimized, after all.

"Then why," Snape asked, turning back to Harry, "was your property found in a Slytherin area last night, Potter? Have your belongings begun to spontaneously Apparate into other Common Rooms? Shall I warn Professor Flitwick to watch for your trousers tonight?"

"I stole Harry's Cloak and Map so that I wouldn't get caught."

McGonagall narrowed her eyes at Ginny's admission. "And I suppose, Miss Weasley, that you went into the Slytherin dormitories for no reason?"

"No ma'am." Ginny's mind raced circles around the problem, looking for an acceptable answer. Seizing on a sudden idea, she began to blink quickly. "Someone dared me to prank Malfoy, so I snuck into his Common Room for inspiration."

"And?"

"There were letters under his mattress, so I took some and made the Howler out of them." After all, _most_ of what she was saying was true. The only difference was whether or not Harry had been involved.

"Miss Weasley," from the sound of his voice, Snape was probably glaring at her. "Do you realize that accessing the Common Room of another House without permission is against 14 different school rules? You have not only illicitly entered my House, but you have also violated another student's privacy. You are guilty of illegal entry, theft, and disturbing the entire school with your antics. Shall I continue?"

Ginny felt that she had blinked enough by now, so she slowly lifted her head and fixed her eyes on Snape's chin, just in time for a few tears to start streaming down her cheeks. "I'm sor-sorry. The older students thought that it would be really funny and I-I…" She took a deep shuddering breath, hoping that Harry wasn't going to go Gryffindor and tell the teachers that she was lying. "I wanted mine to be as good as the Umbridge prank."

McGonagall's lips twitched. Ginny looked up at the Transfiguration professor with her most pleading gaze. "I'm re-really sorry. I know that I shouldn't have listened to them."

There was a short silence, everyone staring at Ginny as she sniffled quietly. Hopefully McGonagall would be won over by the tears, so that Ginny would have some help in convincing Snape.

The Potions Master cleared his throat uneasily. "Potter!" At Snape's sudden roar, Harry jumped slightly, looking rather miserable and confused. "You were there with her! Malfoy saw both of your names on the map before it went blank!"

"The map gets confused sometimes." Ginny sniffed a bit, trying to work up a few more tears. "It's used to Harry, so when someone else takes it around, it thinks that Harry is still there. Really sir," she looked back at Snape, locking her eyes on his aquiline nose this time. "_Please_ don't blame Harry when it was _my_ fault!"

McGonagall appeared sympathetic, but kept her voice carefully neutral. "Take a few deep breaths, Miss Weasley; calm yourself." She turned to Harry with a piercing glare. "To return to my first question; why were you cursing Mr. Malfoy in the school corridors, Mr. Potter?"

Harry still looked rather unsettled, but turned to McGonagall and gave her a convincing answer. "I was only trying to disarm him! He caught up to me after breakfast and started throwing hexes at me for no reason!" He paused for a moment. Pretending to think, Ginny realized. "I guess he thought that I sent the Howler."

Snape, of course, sneered. "A deduction worthy of a Gryffindor. Bravo, Potter."

McGonagall glared at her colleague, then turned to Ginny again. "Miss Weasley, I admire your courage in admitting your guilt. However," she held up her index finger to Ginny's faintly hopeful face. "I will deduct two hundred points from Gryffindor on your behalf and you will serve three weeks of detention with me."

Ginny allowed her eyes to widen in horror. She knew that McGonagall had to be harsh with her – Snape was still in the room, after all – but still felt that she had to put on a good show of hurt feelings. But then, Ginny _had_ broken lots of school rules…McGonagall was letting her off rather easy.

The Transfiguration professor seemed to think so too. "I'm not punishing you as harshly as you deserve," she said, "because this is an isolated event and you seem to have been pressured by older students. Rest assured that we will continue to discuss this later, especially the subject of resisting your brothers'... suggestions."

"Yes, Professor McGonagall." Ginny nodded in submission.

Snape wasn't quite done. "Potter, I'm still not convinced that you were not involved in the heinous events of this week." Harry lowered his eyes to his shoes. "However…" He leaned in close to Harry's ear, and whispered something in a low voice.

Harry blanched slightly at Snape's words, but nodded. Snape gave him an answering nod and, with a final glare toward Ginny, swept from the room.

She sighed in relief, and then looked Harry full in the eyes. "I'm really sorry that I got you in trouble, Harry. It was my fault that Malfoy attacked you in the halls, and I almost made Professor Snape give you detention. Please forgive me."

Harry nodded at her, his face showing a bit of bewilderment, but he seemed to understand Ginny's charade. They turned back to McGonagall as their teacher cleared her throat.

"Miss Weasley; now that we are all Gryffindors in this room, I wish to ask you a few specific questions." Ginny nodded, wondering what McGonagall was getting at.

"Were you involved in the sudden outbreak of pranking that swept the school this last month?"

Ginny nodded again.

"Were you, Mr. Potter?

Harry glanced at Ginny, and then nodded also.

"And were either of you guilty of letting the verdoni into my office?"

"No, it wasn't either of us." Harry started biting his lip. "If we tell you who it was, will you promise not to take points?"

Professor McGonagall arched an eyebrow. "Very well then. I will not. Was it Miss Granger, by any chance?"

"No," said Ginny, rather gleefully. "It was Luna."

The look on the witch's face was priceless. "That- that is quite unexpected." Shaking her head, she waved a hand in dismissal. "Off with you then, and don't breathe a word of this to anyone."

As Ginny followed Harry out of the office, she heard McGonagall mutter to herself, "Wherever did she find a verdoni?"

The door closed behind them, and Harry turned to face Ginny. "You were brilliant!" he murmured, nervously running his hand through his hair. "I can't believe that you lied to Snape like that and got away with it."

"I'm just glad that you didn't give me away. You didn't want me to take all the blame, I could tell."

"Yeah," Harry said, smiling shyly at her. "but still, it isn't fair for you to have three weeks of detention, and I feel really bad about it. Do…do you want me to help you with your homework so that you won't get behind?"

"I'd like that." Ginny gave him her brightest smile in reply. "Actually, I'm glad that you let me take all the blame, because otherwise we both would have lost more points and had two months of detention, and all of them would have been with Snape!"

"Exactly. That's why I decided to follow along with what you were saying." Looking around suddenly, he motioned her toward a nearby empty classroom. Once the door was shut he turned back to face her, then took her hand in his. "Thanks so much for deciding to help me. I would have been expelled without you there. Hell, I probably wouldn't even have gotten into the Slytherin Common Room."

Ginny squeezed his hand casually, a carefree smirk on her face. "So, are you going to tell me what Snape said to you?"

Harry blushed and lowered his eyes. "He said that he wasn't going to push it because he knew that we were somehow involved with the Umbridge affair. Other than that, it was the usual: 'I'm going to use your kidneys in a potion if it ever happens again' speech. I guess he's willing to look the other way this time because he hates her so much. At least, that's the impression that I got."

"Then I guess we have Hermione to thank." Shaking her head, Ginny pulled Harry back to the door. "Come on, Ron and Neville are giving out the prank award in an hour, and I want to change first."

Harry opened the door for her, and then followed her out of the room toward Gryffindor Tower. "We aren't going to win." He said wryly.

Ginny snorted. "After getting half-caught and losing two hundred points? We'll be lucky if we don't get last."

OoOoOoOoO

An hour later, the entire DA was gathered in the Room of Requirement, recounting the pranks of the month and discussing which had been the most successful. Ginny caught "Croaking", "Wets the bed", and "Nightclothes" several times from the various snatches of conversation. She sighed gently. She knew that there was no way that the Malfoy prank would win, but still, it was nice to hear that her prank would be remembered, if nothing else.

"Oy!" Ron was standing in the front of the Room, trying to get everyone's attention. He waved his arms, yelled, and jumped up and down, but no one paid him any notice until Fred let out a loud whistle and called everyone over.

Once everyone had calmed down, Neville and Ron brought out a scroll of parchment and Ron began to read it. "We are here today to award the best pranker of the month. Out of the 5 separate acts of mischief, there were clearly some really brilliant tricks, and some duds. First, we want to recognize the evil geniuses who sent the Headmaster some doctored Sherbet Lemons: Fred and George Weasley!"

The twins rose from their seats to tremendous applause and made their way up to the two judges, making their usual sales pitch. "If you need anything – "

"Anything at all to satisfy – "

"Your pranking needs –"

"Just see us!"

Neville waved them to silence, and then announced the next prank. "Next, we have a certain someone who let a verdoni into Hogwarts, which then proceeded to terrorize McGonagall and give us an unforgettable picture of her running through the castle in her nightclothes. The second pranker: Luna Lovegood!

All heads turned as Luna got up, looking faintly pleased. Ginny caught Luna's eye and gave her a bright smile. Once everyone seemed to have gotten over the worst of their surprise, they all erupted into cheers for the Ravenclaw, grinning at her as she gracefully walked up to join the twins.

Ron cleared his throat, then read the next name. "Snape was next, and, although only the Fifth-year Gryffindors saw it, one of his own students glued him to the floor, then proceeded to ruin everyone's potions. Harry Potter, step forward!"

Harry came to the front of the room to general applause, but, as most hadn't seen the prank, it was rather subdued compared to what Luna and the Twins had gotten.

Neville took a deep breath before continuing to read from the roll of parchment. "Umbridge," he began, but was immediately drowned out by a sudden cheer spreading through the ranks of the DA. Once they settled down a bit, he started again. "A brilliant student gave her a croak, cursed her with a really cruel itch, and hexed off all her hair. The guilty one is: Hermione Granger!"

All heads whipped back to Hermione, who was daintily walking up to the front with a smirk on her face. They gave her the greatest ovation yet, more than half the DA rose to their feet as she joined the others at the front of the room.

Ron took the scroll back from Neville, and waited for almost half a minute while the room settled down. Once everyone was quiet, he announced the last prank. "Draco Malfoy was our last prank, and he –" Ron was interrupted, as the entire DA began to cheer enthusiastically. They were obviously ecstatic over whoever had managed to send Malfoy a Howler. Ron prepared to raise his voice over the noise, but was saved by Hermione, who sent a quick "_Sonorous_" over to Ron's throat.

He mouthed a quick 'thanks' over to her, then kept talking. "Malfoy got a very special letter from his mum. Only, it wasn't really his mother. The Howler came from the combined forces of Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley!"

This time, every single member of the DA was on his or her feet, clapping and roaring as Ginny walked up the aisle and joined Harry. She looked straight into his face and smiled, rolling her eyes slightly at the prolonged cheering.

After the room quieted down once more, Hermione cast _Quietus_ on Ron, and he returned to his favourite role of being in charge. "Now, we can't give out the award based only on how impressive the prank was. After all, if the pranker gets caught, it takes away the entire point."

"For instance," Neville said, "Harry and Ginny managed to completely humiliate Malfoy, but they also lost two hundred points for Gryffindor, and Ginny has three weeks of detention to serve."

The Gryffindors who hadn't known this gasped in horror. Two hundred points was a lot, Ginny knew, and that would put Gryffindor at a huge disadvantage for the House Cup. Unless, of course, they managed to have a very good Quidditch season that year.

"And," Ron continued, "Hermione almost got caught, because Umbridge gave her a really nasty burn."

All of the members knew this, but they still looked sympathetically at Hermione. Ginny felt sorry for her. All that work, and Umbridge had still managed to hex Hermione.

"Everyone knew beyond a doubt that the Twins were behind the Headmaster's sweets, and Harry got kept after class when he pranked Snape." Neville said this very matter-of-factly. He had been there both times, after all.

Ron straightened and continued. "But there was one pranker who never got caught, who executed flawlessly, planned a creative prank, and who won this award, hands down. To Luna Lovegood, we award the Pranking Trophy!"

It was only a gold-coloured goblet, but the way that Ron handed it to Luna, you would have thought that it was made of diamond. She took it with a smile and thanked him, nodding to everyone around.

_Overall, _thought Ginny, _it had been much better than Truth or Dare._

THE END.


End file.
